


Truly the Angel's Best

by aceofhearts88



Series: Bucky, Sam and Ana [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Baby Fic, Civil War AU, Kid Fic, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, implied Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes/T'Challa, please love Ana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 21:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7907650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofhearts88/pseuds/aceofhearts88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE]</p><p>Upon angel wings you soar; your sparkling golden halo glows<br/>Whenever she's with you, it's Heaven in her eyes that shows.<br/>Her eyes hold a song so beautiful you'd think it was Heaven's melody.<br/>It's the music of love's symphony composed by each precious memory.<br/>The love known is the love you've shown from sunset to sunrise.<br/>The depth of your love will forever show in your daughter's eyes.</p><p>- Michelle W. Emerson</p><p>------</p><p>She changes everything.</p><p>He goes from trying to find himself to being Bucky. Then it's Bucky and Ana. And thought it feels great, it's not enough. Especially once he sees that there is another option possible, that there might be feelings involved.</p><p>Bucky, Ana and Sam. </p><p>If they stop this war from breaking out, they might have a chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Katya

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely" and all credit to finding that goes to Mina, a wonderful perfect human being who inspires me every single day.
> 
> This fic was inspired by a dream I had and I hope you will have fun reading it. It'll take four chapters until we get to see more than just Bucky and OCs, but I hope it'll be worth the wait.

Her name was Katya and Bucky met her on the train from Vienna to Bucharest, a young black haired woman who stepped into the door of his cabin and politely asked him in German if she could sit with him roughly an hour after taking off from the central train station. Bucky heard the faint Romanian accent, guessed her to be twenty three or twenty four, a university student maybe, going home to visit her parents for the holidays.

“Of course.” He answered her in German as well, leaving his voice carefully blank of every kind of accent, and standing up to help her push her trunk up on the luggage rack before going back to his window seat, backpack next to him, his own dufflebag on the rack over his head. He was wearing a high cut long sleeved shirt, glove over the metal fingers, careful while traveling.

“Thank you.” The woman told him when she sunk into a seat across from him, “Those guys next door were the worst, actually dared to slide his hand up my skirt. So many pigs around these days.” She muttered angrily and Bucky looked at her, half hiding behind his hair, he knew the pictures running around the internet were messy at its best, but he still couldn't rule out that people might recognize him.

He had left America because of it, and the memories and flashbacks threatening to pierce his skull in two, not even England or Germany had kept his mind at ease for more than just one night, so he had finally stopped letting his head lead and had gone with his gut. The one telling him that Bucharest was his safest option. Bucky had no idea just why it might be safe, the Soldier had no memories of Romania, no connections, nothing had pointed to familiarity, but it still felt like that.

Like safety, like something long missed.

“You want me to scare them a little?” He offered up to her in fluent Romanian and then blinked in surprise when she laughed, a beautiful sound, lighting up her whole face.   
“Oh, that's sweet of you, but no, thank you. I'm fine.” She assured him with a smile and got more comfortable, taking off her jacket and taking out a book, but looking over to him again before paying attention to it, “I'm Katya by the way.”  
“Yasha.” He replied, surprised on how easy it was, “It's nice to meet you.” She smiled at him once more and then opened her book, and he leaned back against and picked up his notebook again.

\--

It was her who picked up the conversation again after an hour or two in silence, offering him a slice of cake she had packed and then just started chatting. And contrary to prior interactions with people, he found himself drawn to her, to the bubbly happiness she radiated into the world. She told him about living in Berlin, about starting her own life so far away from her parents, told him about studying international relations. 

Of what she wanted for her future, about a career in politics, traveling the world and seeing far away places. Of partying through the night and seeing sunsets on every continent. He smiled, found himself laughing along, admired her for her dreams. Once upon a time, he had had those, too, of a bright future and glorious plans, now, all he wanted was peace. To live undisturbed in a corner of the world where he felt safe.

She didn't ask about him until they were exiting the train in Budapest to get their connecting night train to Bucharest and she casually asked him what he was traveling to Romania for.   
“Looking for a new start.” Bucky answered her as they strolled along the platform, him cataloging every people in the train station, eyes picking out security cameras and guards, while the woman at his side smiled at him.

Smiled at him like he deserved it.

She seemed intrigued but kept her questions from pushing too far into his privacy, and Bucky felt himself actually laughing about a funny line or two. It was surreal, how just three days ago he was choking on breaths and felt like suffocating in the shitty little hellhole he had found as a hotel room in the outskirts of Berlin, his head struggling to find its way out of the panic attack, just because a car had misfired outside the window.

Now he was helping a beautiful young woman into the train and hid a small smirk by turning away when she stared at his right arm for a moment after he had pulled her up the few steps. They got a cabin together again, he didn't even think about it, asked her some more question about her studies while he walked into a free cabin and helped her push her trunk and bag up into the luggage rack again. She laughed and talked, and before he knew it, the train was leaving Budapest and rolling off into the Hungarian night. 

He didn't sleep, hadn't planned on it, cabin company or not, he wouldn't have been able to really fall asleep in a moving train with unknown people around. He was shocked to realize though that when Katya laid down to sleep, he powered down as well, let his body loosen more and his mind quieten down even more. He dozed for a long time, watched the trees, villages, lakes, rivers, hills and mountains pass by.

He watched Katya just as much, astonished and quite honestly so incredibly surprised by how deep she was able to sleep in the close presence of such danger. She could not stand a chance against him if he wanted to hurt her, she would die quiet and soundless if he wanted to, but instead she slept. Untroubled, so much at peace. The wasn't an ounce of fear visible on her face, quite on the contrary, her lips were even curled into a small smile.

She was beautiful, open for life and so positive.

And he might even say attractive, his body certainly thought so.

\--

When Bucharest came closer, Katya blurted out an invitation to a party some of her friends were throwing in celebration of all of them being back home for once.  
“It's in the city, they rented a club out for it, all casual, no theme or so. Just dancing, drinking, having fun. You should come, meet some people, built some contacts to start anew in Bucharest.” And she looked at him, all welcoming and excited, wanting him to come, seeing no strangeness in inviting a stranger from the train whom she only knew for 20 hours to a party.

“I...I'm not sure...” He tried to not let the inner fight between panic and longing show, but her smile just was so sweet, “When is it?”  
“Day after tomorrow. I'll write you down the address and give you my number. Just maybe think about it?” Katya asked, voice and eyes all hopeful and Bucky found himself smiling back, unable to say no anymore.

He had promised himself no more running. His head, his gut, they both told him Bucharest was safe. Maybe it was time to stop living in bubbles.

“Alright, I'll think about it.” He answered her and the grin on her face was nearly enough to warm his heart. They busied themselves with packing up their things then, but Bucky paused for a moment when Katya dropped the ripped off piece of paper upon his jacket. He carefully folded it in half and then slipped it into the breast pocket of his shirt, not missing how she had watched the movement carefully, content smile breaking out over her face.

The station in Bucharest was busy, and he soon enough got cut off from Katya, saw her again a moment later how she greeted a middle aged couple, probably her parents. Bucky blew out a breath, pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and pushed his dufflebag higher upon his shoulder, backpack on his back, and then he walked towards the exit. 

It didn't feel like coming home, impossible of course, he had never been in Romania before, he was sure of that. But it felt good, it felt like he could finally stop running here.

\--

The city was gorgeous, old grace mixed in with modern touches but never losing that sense of tradition and history that let his head come to peace. The country, the city, it had history and it let you feel it, and for the first time since regaining even a spark of his memories, Bucky didn't feel so out of place anymore. 

Not like a man ripped out of time. 

He didn't slouch into the shadows or made his way to the hotel unseen, he kept his hood up but still walked along the sidewalks and the locals, admired the views and the sights, breathed in the smell and let himself feel.

A new country, a new city. A new start.

He checked into the hotel he had picked out before, simple room, balcony looking out over the oldest parts of the city, and then went out again to buy a cellphone and get some groceries. He didn't take the time to do a perimeter run, didn't feel the need for it for the first time, instead he strolled around the city for the rest of the day. He found the market, bought some fruit, and then got something to eat at a small restaurant just outside his hotel. 

He ended the day with a really long shower and unpacking the few belongings he had in his dufflebag before sitting down on the balcony with his notebook. He didn't write though, he watched the sun set over Bucharest, how it colored the rooftops and the houses golden, how the peace set over the city, dark corners growing.

It was beautiful.

He didn't find himself thinking back to what once was, for the first time in weeks he found himself looking ahead, wondering about the future and not letting it grip his heart with fear. He felt safe here, safe enough to stop running. 

Safe enough maybe to finally let himself be human.

His eyes wandered over to his jacket, where Katya's little piece of paper was still waiting in the pockets. He got up and got it, walking back out to the balcony until he unfolded it and looked down at her sloppy little handwriting. Address of the club, Bucky had walked by it already, it wasn't too far from the hotel, had looked simple and neat from the outside, and her number.

Fact was, he wanted to go, and it scared him a little, how he was suddenly longing for some interaction with people, how much he suddenly wanted to feel free and young, to act like other people did in the age that he still looked like. It was a risk, he knew that, but maybe it was worth it. He wanted a fresh start, a new beginning, he didn't want to be the Soldier anymore, no more ghost running from one city to the next, he had no idea who this man in his memories was, so maybe it was time he made new ones.

'Text me the time, I'll be there'

\--

“We need to introduce you to Nicu, he can hook you up with a job.” 

Bucky raised an eyebrow at the black haired guy whose name he had forgotten again already, Katya had fired them out like bullets while introducing him to all her friends, pulling him along by his hand from person to person. The club had been closed for the private venue, only those with invitations got in, the music was not too loud but also not something Bucky was getting used to anytime soon.

The drinks tasted more like too much sugar than alcohol, but he still smiled and laughed more than he had in the last seventy-five years. Katya was a ray of sunshine, like a beacon of pure light and she never let go of him, there was always one of her hands wrapped into his, or taking his sleeve, his jacket, and he let her, welcomed it even, it had been too long since someone had last touched him just because they wanted to, just because it was the natural way they interacted with people.

“He owns a service station down the block from where we grew up, he always needs help around the place. And he has good contacts.” Katya explained from his side, leaning slightly against him, as much as she could hold still for a few minutes at a time. Bucky had thrown over a long sleeved dark blue shirt, she seemed fascinated with the fabric, and no one had asked about the glove he kept over his left hand, none of them was noisy.

He was actually enjoying himself.

“Sounds good.” He replied, he was using some faint Russian accent to color his Romanian, some subconscious safety net, he didn't want anyone link him back to America, not until he was sure that was really his past. The guy with the black hair scribbled down some address for him and Bucky took it with a hesitant smile, but before he could have wrecked his brain for smalltalk as everyone looked at him a new song came on and Katya pulled on his arm.

“Come, dance with me.”

\--

The next time they took a break, his enhanced hearing enabled him to pick up on the dare some of her friends issued to Katya with giggling looks send his way. Daring her to kiss him. It was far past two in the morning by then and many people had already left for home again, most of the young women in Katya's closer circle were hopelessly wasted and Bucky was wondering a little on how they would get home, but when Katya grinned at him and turned to walk over, his focus shifted onto her.

She wasn't as drunk as her friends, but not exactly sober anymore either, and he wondered what she was sorting him into. She couldn't know of course that drinking the entire club dry would have maybe only gotten him a little tipsy for a few minutes.  
“Hey.” She smiled up at him when she stopped maybe half a foot in front of him, looking up at him through her long lashes, she was really not as innocent as Bucky had first believed her to be on the train, he inclined his head to her, smiled as well, “So, my friends dared me to do something and I'm not a coward.” She told him, something cocky flashing in her eyes and Bucky felt himself leaning in even closer, muscle memory jumping in while his head was still a little unsure of how to proceed, “But I really also don't want to ruin someone's night just because my friends think he is hottest guy they've come across in years.”

Wow, she was not subtle at all, was she now. Bucky could easily recall that that had not been what her friends had said about him. They had called him handsome, hot and attractive, but none of them had used those kind of words.

“Is that so?” He nevertheless played along and Katya smirked, “What did the dare you to do?” He couldn't remember when he had last felt this way, thrilled over the attention of someone to be solely on him, spurned on by the lust in someone's eyes.  
“To kiss you.” She answered him and her eyes darkened when he laid a hand to the small of her back, drawing her a little closer.

“Well then, we can't let you lose that one, now, can we?” He offered up and leaned down, Katya still surprised him when she pushed up even quicker and crashed her lips to his, kissing him hungry and desperate. She had her arms around his neck quickly, pushing him back against the pillar behind him, and Bucky stopped listening to his head.

\--

He didn't know...well he did know how they ended up in his hotel room, he could quite easily recall the walk back over from the club, how Katya had again and again pushed him up against a building wall to kiss the breath out of him. What he didn't know was how he deserved a beautiful smart woman like her wanting him like this, splayed out on the bed, naked in the moonlit shadows.

With her straddling his hips, grounding her core down on his hard cock so horrendously slowly while her hands mapped out his chest and shoulders, fingers ghosting over the seam where flesh met metal, her lips following her fingertips without a second of hesitation. No questions asked, no eyebrows raised. 

He was gasping, head thrown back into the pillow, hands grasping the headboard where she had, a little shy then, put them with a gentle advise to keep them there.

\--

Katya didn't stay, didn't do anything more but catch her breath, tell him how much fun she had, then she collected her clothes and was gone. No call me tomorrow. No call me sometimes. Nothing. And in a way, Bucky was relieved, still floating high on ecstasy and happiness, and a bone deep satisfaction as he hadn't felt in so long, he fell asleep not five minutes after she had left, butt naked sprawled across his bed, windows open, wind gently moving the curtains, letting in the moonlight.

Completely open and vulnerable, but it still was the best sleep he had gotten since 1941.

\--

One night that changed his life forever.


	2. Niculai

A few short weeks after the party and the night with Katya, Bucky had managed to make himself a home in Bucharest, he had actually managed to create a safe space for himself where he was already happy and content.

As advised he had looked for Nicu the day after the party and had found a middle aged Romanian man who had welcomed him with a bright smile and a heavy pat to his back, who laughed and invited him into his shop when Bucky had told him about the advise some friends from last night had given him for a fresh start in Bucharest.

“You're not from around here, I can hear that.” Nicu had chuckled and pulled up a chair in the back room of his workshop. Bucky had smiled and shook his head, had sat down and then watched the other man as he took a seat behind his desk, “I've been military all my life until my knee got me discharged.” Nicu continued and Bucky felt himself tense, even if only a little, “You've got the look of a soldier about you, son, where're you from?”

He found himself smirking to himself over the son. If only the man had any idea.

“I'm from Russia, Sir.” He answered, which wasn't that much of a lie if he was being honest to himself, he was starting to remember that he had had a life in America, even sometimes remembered what it was like. Brooklyn. His Ma. The blond man from the bridge, only different. But Russia, almost seventy years, Russia had been home, the origin story of who he was now. 

“A little town outside of Moscow, I do not think you would know.” He went on and Nicu kept on smiling, open and inviting.  
“You speak the language very well.” Nicu told him and Bucky didn't really need to act the pleasantness of hearing such a compliment, he didn't know why he spoke Romanian as good as he did. He doubted very much that he had been able to do so before the war, it felt like Bucky Barnes had maybe been able to speak German and some French, and then picked up some Russian in the war, but all these new skills, those were the Soldier's.

“My mother comes from here, been moved to Russia when she was a child. She taught me, wanted me to know where my roots came from.” Only switched out the country and the language, Bucky thought to himself as he looked over to Nicu again, founding him looking impressed.  
“Very well, what did you do until now? Any skills, any experiences? If you had any proper education or even some degree, I doubt that Yuri and Alex would have sent you to me.” Nicu wanted to know and Bucky said what he had chosen that morning, letting it not drift too far from the truth.

“Military, Sir. Elite forces.” And it had Nicu not shy away in fear but nod in respect, something like admiration swimming in his green eyes, “I'm used to work hard and much, unusual hours. I'll take everything, just want something to do.”  
“You're not running from your officers, are you?” Nicu asked and leaned in, eyes hardening and narrowing, “Because I do not take deserters under my care. I may not always have stood on good ground with the Russians, but if you serve, you serve. If you make that decision, you sit with it. I've lost too many good friends to want to support those who run now.”

“I can assure you, Sir, that I did not run. I was discharged because of...” alright, how did he put this now to not sound like some broken toy, Bucky bit his bottom lip, “I had some hard missions and I couldn't check back out when I got home again, it...messed with my head. I'm doing better now, but going back out there into the field, it isn't an option.” Sometimes, sticking close to the truth was the best lie one could present. Nicu was looking at him when Bucky raised his gaze up from the ground again.

He felt nervous, in a different way than the usual paranoia and collective mistrust against everyone and everything. He realized that he wanted this man to trust him, to at least give him a chance to prove himself, this was his best chance to find foot in Bucharest, to get a chance for a new start.  
“If you ever need to talk with someone, kid? You know where to find me.” Nicu said, and Bucky could hear how he meant it, and then watched how Nicu reached behind himself, grabbed a piece of paper, “Fill this out for me, just basic information. You got an apartment yet, son?”

“No, Sir, I've only arrived three days ago, I'm staying in a hotel.” Bucky replied and Nicu hummed, sliding the paper over to him and plucking a pen from the box on his right, “Monday, seven am, on the dot. I'll have an apartment for you by then that you can pay with half of what you get from me. Don't get into trouble with the law, don't drag my good name into the dirt and don't just live to work, and we'll be fine. You're young kid, you've probably seen a lot of stuff that young men like you should never have to witness.”

Once again, the man had no idea.

“Thank you, Sir, that...means a lot.” Bucky said and smiled, still something he was getting used to again, Nicu though grinned, his eyes still serious.  
“I give people a chance when they deserve one, and I have the feeling that you haven't had someone in a long time who told you that you do deserve one. Welcome to Bucharest, kid.” Nicu called out and then held out a hand, Bucky reached for it and smiled upon the hard grip of the other man, “You need anything? My wife and I are always happy to help.”

\--

Bucky spent the weekend like a tourist, he took in the sights, walked for hours through the city and ate in small local restaurants, talked to the locals and made pictures. He found great joy in the market place, delighted at fresh fruit, the plums were especially delicious.

He bought himself a book on the history of the city and visited all the old places, took a look back into history and how much the city was prospering now. He looked at all those old buildings, at their history and stopped feeling so old. In DC, in London and Berlin, everything had been so new, so modern, so bright and cold, it had felt so achingly unfamiliar and out of his grasp, here, he felt at home.

Bucharest was old and the city was proud to show it, and Bucky felt so young among it.

\--

On monday morning, five minutes to seven, he was leaning against the service station building, watching the sun rise over the roofs of the buildings around him, the suburbs slowly coming alive. He watched young kids running to meet up on their way to schools, teenagers dragging their feet towards the bus station, more than one still looking half asleep.

Men and women left for work, calling out to their neighbours in greeting, waving in passing by, and Bucky found himself wanting. A simple life. A peaceful life. A warm home. A soft bed and steady sleep.

A purpose.

Nicu drove up to his station in a deep blue truck, waving to two teenagers racing towards the approaching bus as he stepped out and then looked over to Bucky.  
“Punctual, very good. Get in, gotta show you the apartment before opening up the shop.” Nicu told him and Bucky grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder he walked up to the truck.

It was a new start, and he would not shy away from it.

\--

The apartment was beautiful and so much more than Bucky had thought possible, but Nicu assured him again and again that it was real and no joke. And Bucky believed him, found himself strolling through the two bedroom apartment, trying to imagine a life in it, stepping on the balcony and watching out over what he could see from the city.

“You like it?” Nicu asked, coming out as well and Bucky smiled, glancing over at the older...younger...at him, this was not going to get confusing at all.  
“It's amazing. It...it looks like it could become a home.” He answered and they both turned around, looked at the open kitchen and the empty living room.  
“My wife and I, we got some furniture in the basement. Son moved overseas, left behind a lot of stuff, he won't come back to get it. You're welcome to look if you want some.” Nicu offered and Bucky felt the gratitude flood his stomach with warmth.

“Can I ask you something?” He wanted to know and Nicu waved a hand to gesticulate the go ahead, “Why are you doing this? Helping, reaching out, giving strangers a chance when there is nothing in it for you?”

Nicu didn't immediately reply, instead he turned around and laid a hand on Bucky's right shoulder, looking him in the eyes. Bucky strangely felt himself squirming slightly, it had been a long long time since someone had last looked at him like this.

“Is there nothing in it for me? See, when I came back from the army, came home to start my second career, I didn't know what to do and finding this shop and making it into a successful business, that was more luck than me knowing what I was doing.” Nicu began and Bucky found himself grinning. “I was lucky, but not everyone is. Some people need help, a little support or just a little motivation. And some just need someone to give them a second chance.”

“In all these years I saw kids come and go.” Nicu continued, “Local kids coming in to help out in the summer to boost their pocket money. Fresh graduates coming in to work for some months, until they find out what they want and go their way. Boys and girls who come back from their adventures in another country or city, who saw their dreams fail and want to start anew at home. And people like you, who need a new beginning. Who need someone telling them that they are worth it, that they deserve the good side of life.” He dropped his hand down when Bucky looked away, swallowing heavily.

“I have seen them all come and go, but what I gained is friendship. Is family. I get postcards and christmas cards from all over the world, I have kids writing me to thank me for the chance I gave them when no one else did. I get something back, it's just not something you can measure in money.” Nicu explained and smiled, and even though he felt close to tears while faced with all this selflessness, Bucky smiled back, “I don't know what you went through, son, but however long it takes to see that light against in those blue eyes of yours, the path will be worth it for me.”

With a small pat to his arm, Nicu went back inside, telling him that he was gonna take another short look at the shower head to check if it had been correctly repaired. Bucky turned and leaned back against the side of the house, stupid silly grin on his face. 

There were so many things right now that the didn't know. About himself. About the world. About the future.

But in all those chaos, they were two things he knew for certain right at this moment, Bucharest was home and Nicu could be trusted.

\--

That day's evening, he met Nicu's wife, Maria, a small but loving woman who tutted at his hair and pinched his hollow cheeks, and sat him down at the dinner table with firm but gentle hands. She served him food until she was content with his complaints over please no more, only to serve him cake and cookies once Nicu had led him into the living room.

She reminded him of his Mum, the few memories he had gotten back so far.

And he welcomed it.

\--

Months passed and Bucky found himself relaxing more and more into a routine, he worked and had a lot of fun with the others in Nicu's shop, he found great joy in seeing damaged cars and bikes get fixed up again. He liked the grease and dirt on his hands. He went out to the market, he learned to cook with fresh ingredients with Maria's supporting help.

The weekends he spent hiking or strolling through the city, he even took some days of the vacation time that Nicu forced on him with a smile and made a trip down to Constanta. He found himself going out with some of the guys from the shop after some weeks of warming up to them and the idea of having something like friends again.

His apartment became a warm lived in space, flea markets and Maria's never ending gifts and self made trinkets turned it into more than just a sleeping space. Bucky was really beginning to feel at home.

So of course something had to happen.

\--

They were working on the final touches for the old truck some of the guys had been dragged in weeks ago from the junkyard. They were fixing it up for the orphanage, Nicu had nodded off on the project right away, and though Bucky was not really involved, had other jobs to tend to most of the time, he still helped whenever he could.

Just like this Tuesday afternoon. 

Until one of the support beams broke and let the back of the truck crash into the welding equipment, and Bucky acted without thinking. He jumped and pushed Alex and Luca out of the way, rolling the other way just in time to avoid being hit by the truck himself. 

But not in time to evade the welding stick that got rammed into his left arm as the crashing truck sent equipment flying everywhere. And then people for screaming for them and stuff was still falling, noises everywhere and then the searing pain when the still hot and switched on welding stick began to burn his arm from the inside.

He gritted his teeth and pulled at the stick until he got his arm free, and then he rushed from the hall, stumbled into the backroom that rarely was used and fell into a chair. He screamed into his right hand and then breathed. Breathed against the pain. Breathed against the fear. 

Panicked, he lurched up when feet came running down the corridor, away from the commotion he could still hear in the repair hall. Backing up into the shadow at the ball wall, trying to vanish into the darkness, trying to become something he wasn't anymore. The metal arm hurt, so hot he could feel it in his shoulder and chest.

It was Nicu who stormed into the room and zeroed in on him faster than Bucky liked, striding forward in the next second, hands manhandling Bucky back into the chair and cradling his face in both hands.  
“Did you get hit? Are you hurt?” He demanded to know and Bucky could barely hear it over the thundering noise of panic in his ears, “Barnes, goddamn answer me!”

And Bucky froze.

And then he tried to get away, flight, just run, just run fast, get away.

“Hey, no, no, sit down! Yasha!” Nicu argued and reached for Bucky's left arm when he tried to push past him, he clamped down hard and Bucky screamed. Knees buckling, he went down.

Barnes.

Nicu had called him Barnes.

Bucky had gone by Yasha Lyadov.

Caught in pain and panic, Bucky was too late to stop Nicu from cutting off his jacket sleeve with his pocket knife, one foot going out to kick the door shot. And then the metal arm was on full display, but Nicu wasn't gasping or frowning and Bucky stared at him, not breathing, not thinking. Secret out. Nicu followed the news, read the newspaper, he had to know now.

“Shit.” Nicu hissed instead and none too gently shoved and pulled Bucky back to his feet again, “Ice, we need to ice this to stop the heat. Let's go.” 

And with Bucky still not knowing what the hell was happening, Nicu led him down into the kitchen where he pulled open the freezer and pulled out the crushed ice into a towel. He pushed Bucky into a chair and then wrapped the ice cold towel around the still soldering part of Bucky's lower left arm.

“Now, breathe.” He said and brought a hand up into Bucky's hair, cradling the back of his head and Bucky closed his eyes, heart racing, he took a first deep breath, “There we go, just breathe. When it's cooled down, we'll look at the damage and then we'll talk.”  
“How long have you known?” Bucky gasped out and leaned his head into Nicu's hand, tried to breathe through the pain and willed his heart and head to calm down again.

Don't freak. Don't run. 

Let's see how this plays out first.

“Six months.” Nicu answered and Bucky felt his eyes snap open wide.

That meant two weeks after he had arrived.

And he hadn't said one word.

\--

“I can't believe you didn't say something.” Bucky muttered half an hour later, locked with Nicu in the latter one's office after Nicu had closed down the shop for the day. No one had gotten hurt aside from Bucky, thanks to his quick jumping, but everyone was frazzled and shocked, and Nicu hadn't wanted to risk someone getting hurt by cleaning up the chaps the falling truck had caused.

And now he was sitting in Nicu's desk chair while Nicu was sitting on the stool he had pulled over from the repair station. One screwdriver in his mouth, while he was prying metal plates open with a knife and prodding at connections with another smaller screwdriver.

“Six months. You knew for six months and you never said anything. You invited me home to you, you sicked Maria on me to guilt trip me into Friday night dinners and shopping tricks. You...” And he shook his head again, not believing, waiting for the firing squad, waiting for the joke to end.

Nicu sighed and let the screwdriver drop into his lap, so his mouth was free, he cleared his throat and then waited until Bucky was looking at him. “It doesn't matter to me.” Bucky gave a high pitched alarmed noise and Nicu snorted, “You've been working endlessly, you helped everywhere you could. You found friends, you laughed, you smiled with the other guys. You babysat Luca's daughter for an hour three times now, and I've seen you with the little one. My wife loves you like her own son by now. Even on dark days, you show up right on time and do your best.”

“But...”

“There is no but.” Nicu told him in that one tone that always had Bucky snap his lips shut and listen, the one tone that reminded him so much of his own father. “The day I saw the Winter Soldier's face on the news reels in the internet when they made their search public, I knew, but it didn't change a thing for me. When I was in the army, the Soldier was our boogeyman, act out of line, don't serve your country right, dare and betray the service and he will come for you. Take you out and let your entire family disappear as well.” 

Bucky winced.

And Nicu scolded him with a hand gently slapping at his thigh.

“I was terrified, and truth be told not much has changed since all that information has leaked online.” Bucky opened his mouth and Nicu slapped his knee again, “But you're not the Soldier. The man working for me, the man I let into my family is not the Winter Soldier. The man I have sitting right here in front of me is lost, and still trying to find his way in life. A man who wants peace and happiness, who wants a purpose. Who relearned to smile and laugh, who crys and is afraid. You are human, you are not a weapon.”

Bucky knew his right hand was shaking and he could feel it becoming too much, emotional overload, his brain, his heart, unable to cope with all that gratitude again.

Nicu smiled at him, so proud, always so proud, and set screwdriver and knife to the side, pulled Bucky forward until he could wrap his arms around him. And Bucky cried.

“You've been through hell, son, and I doubt that anyone will ever be able to understand what strength and courage it needs to move on from all of that. Many would have broken, would have lost their sanity, become cold and hard, but you didn't.” Nicu whispered at him, “You're strong, strong enough to let yourself be weak when you need to. You are a good man, who deserves to be happy. Now...I need to fix this arm or Maria will have my ear when we turn up for dinner.”

Bucky pulled away again and wiped a hand over his face, letting Nicu get back to work, helping him this time, guiding him along the panels and connections. 

They didn't talk again until they were sitting in Nicu's car, driving home to Maria and a beautiful dinner.

“I want you to know that whatever happens, I'm on your side. As long as I am standing on my own two feet, you're gonna be a free man. They're not going to get you, bad guys or the supposed good ones.” Nicu said when they were already pulling up in his street, Bucky grimaced.  
“You can't...” He tried to intervene but Nicu snorted, looking so annoyed that Bucky had to smile at it.

“I can. And I will. I'm not a legendary assassin, but I wasn't a soldier for nothing. I protect my own.” Nicu clarified and reached over to squeeze metal fingers.

“Thank you, Nicu. Thank you.”

\--

After dinner with Nicu and Maria, Bucky went home still caught in some kind of daze, where shock and gut wrenching fear was slowly turning into happiness. He felt almost giddy when he threw his jacket over the couch and sank into the pillows, flipping on the TV.

They knew the truth. Nicu and Maria knew the truth now.

And they had taken him even closer into their support. 

He took out one of the notebooks from under the couch table, the most intact one, no dents from too hard gripping fingers, the pages all still unbent, no frantic thumbing through them. It was the one with the least written pages, it's title more cursive than the others', Personal, and he picked up the pen from the table and turned to the last page with questions.

He scratched out the thick Who am I and turned to a new page, setting the pen to paper.

'My name is Bucky Barnes.'


	3. Anastasija

Knock. Knock.

“'m coming!” Bucky yelled around his toothbrush and frantically looked around for a shirt while he tied up his sweatpants on his way to the door. He snatched up a shirt from the basket next to the iron board and then rushed to the door when it knocked again. Someone was impatient.

He opened the door and froze.

“Hi.”

“Katya?” Bucky gasped and then quickly took a step back when she pushed a hand against his chest to brush past him into the apartment, “How...how do you know where I live?” He wanted to know and turned around, staring at her as she walked over to the couch. Katya, wearing a yellow coat, black tights and green boots, placed a big bag with ducks on them on the couch table.

“Good, you still remember who I am, that makes all of this way less awkward.” Katya quipped at him and walked out into the staircase corridor as well. Only to return with a stroller. And Bucky dropped the toothbrush.

“What...what are you doing?”

It came out high-pitched and confused. Bucky cleared his throat afterwards and quickly bend down to pick up his toothbrush again, turning in a circle to find somewhere to momentarily store it, using the empty flower vase on the sideboard in the end. And then he stood like an idiot in the middle of his own living room, watching the woman who he hadn't seen or heard about in eleven months...

Oh no.

“Well, you catch on fast.” Katya cheered and unstrapped the baby carrier from the stroller, placing it carefully on the couch before straightening up and looking at him again.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” She countered and opened her purse, pulling out a folded stack of papers before walking up to him. Bucky was still trying to reboot his brain. Say something. Do something.

Just something, you big idiot.

“These are her papers. Birth certificate and all that jazz. I wrote you a letter where I am officially standing down my custody rights so you'll have no trouble with the officials.” She spoke up and pushed the papers against his chest until he grabbed them with numb fingers.

She just had to be kidding.

Only she wasn't.

Bucky was good in reading people, he had been good at that even before they had turned him into an emotionless predator. He could see tiny nuances, annoyances, hidden fears, nervous ticks and twitches. People could say they were happy, he would see they were not, Sarah Rogers and Winifred Barnes had taught him sad but valuable lessons there. And this woman standing before him now, she was dead serious.

There wasn't an ounce of nervousness in her, just stubborn resolve and narrow minded focus.

“What the hell are you doing?” He hissed as he finally broke free from his stupor, leaning down to get closer to her. Katya though didn't even blink, just kept that expressionless face.  
“I'm taking my life back.” She declared and Bucky snapped for air, straightening up again, “I didn't want to get pregnant, but I thought I could do it. Turns out I can't, I want my life back, Yasha. My studies, my friends, my parties, my travels. Can't do any of that with a child.” She explained and then made to turn and Bucky had to bite down on his tongue to keep from grabbing her.

“You said you were on birth control!” He argued and she shrugged, “That's your answer? You can't just drop in like this after ten months and leave a baby with me.”  
“She's your daughter.” Katya pointed out and something in Bucky started screaming, really really loud, “You're her father.” This had to be how a heart attack mixed with an aneurysm and a nervous mental breakdown felt like, Bucky mused, “I can't take care of her, none of us would ever be happy. I don't want children, Yasha, I want to see the world, I want to be free. I want to be young and make mistakes. Go wild and let loose.”

Should have thought of that before ripping the damn condom from my hands, Bucky growled on the inside.

“And you never thought to call? You had my frigging number! You apparently found out where I live...how'd you manage that by the way?” He wanted to know, nervous energy crippling up his back. Katya sighed.  
“I met Luca in the city, he said he worked with you now, told me where to find you.” She told him, wearily, pulling out her phone and scrolling around in it, Bucky raised both hands and dragged them through his already wild hair.

That was going to be a fun conversation with Luca.

“You can't do this, Katya. I...” He closed his eyes, tried to breathe through the noises in his head and the headache coming at him like a truck. Too much his brain was yelling, too much, too much. Hide, hide, hide. Turn off.  
“I need to go.” Katya announced and Bucky snapped open his eyes again, shaking his head, “You'll be fine, there are baby books. You have a nice apartment, nice neighborhood. It's a good place to raise children. Goodbye, Yasha.”

Words failed him. Completely again, no clear thought in his mind, not a single word able to slip past his lips. Bucky could only watch as Katya slipped her phone back into her coat pocket and then walked out of the door, closing the door quietly behind her before walking down the stairs.

This couldn't be happening.

\--

This was really happening.

\--

The baby couldn't be older than six weeks, a tiny little thing buried in a too big snow suit and a fluffy blanket, a white hat covering her small head. She was sleeping, tiny lips puckered, but looking so relaxed and so calm.

She is your daughter.

You're her father.

He dropped his face into his hands and took a deep breath, kneeling as he was in front of the couch, fought down the panic attack, he couldn't be scared, he couldn't freak out and run, not now. Not anymore. One more deep breath, and then he dropped his hands again and looked up.

It was too warm for winter clothes inside the apartment, even for a baby, so much he knew without reading any damn baby books. Carefully he reached out and pushed the blanket to the side, revealing tiny hands and ten tiny fingers that twitched for a second. Two tiny feet stuck in blue socks and he couldn't help out but carefully stroke over the soles of her feet.

She didn't wake, just wrinkled her nose for a split second before her face smoothed back into the peacefulness of sleep. Bucky's heart though skipped right over into a frenzied pounding and he so carefully and quietly slipped one hand further up to trace the shape of her fingers. Ten beautiful tiny fingers. So soft and so warm.

Breath shaky when he blew it past his lips, he reached for the zipper on the snow suit and slowly started to pull it down. Very intend on not waking her or causing her any discomfort, he opened the straps holding her safely inside the baby carrier and then pulled her out of the snow suit, careful, limb for limb. Underneath it, she was wearing a baby pink romper suit with a yellow duck on her chest.

He smiled, felt it warm and relax his entire face, as he placed the snow suit on the couch table at his back. He reached for the hat next, carefully untied the ribbon under her chin and then slid it off, his heart doing a somersault when he looked at the brunet hair on her head. Like his. Exactly like his. Another shaky breath as he let one flesh finger softly brush over it, smiling bigger at the softness of it.

And then two eyes opened.

And looked right at him.

\--

Bucky gasped, drew back so sudden that his back got slammed against the edge of the couch table, heart pounding in his throat, in his ears, his chest aching. Breaths stuttering in his lungs for a second before speeding up so badly that he was panting for a short minute or two.

“My eyes.” He choked out, felt that forced control over his emotions slip away, “You have my eyes.” He whispered hoarsely and felt tears built up in his own eyes. His own blue eyes that got mirrored back at him from the most beautiful face he had ever seen. The baby blinked and he clapped a hand over his mouth for a second to catch the sob breaking out of his chest.

She really is your daughter.

And that was when his brain decided to freak out.

\--  
He couldn't do this, he thought as he paced by the window front, he couldn't do this, he really couldn't do this and this couldn't be happening. He couldn't take care of a baby, he had just finally learned to completely take care of himself, he had to relearn so much and he finally had control back. But none of that stopped the nightmares, he screamed himself awake so often still, he cried himself to sleep again.

And the flashbacks. As rarely as they had been happening for the last months, he still had violent blanks sometimes, just spaces where he zoned out for a few minutes. God knew what could all happen to a baby in a few minutes. And breakdowns, he hadn't had one since the incident in the shop but it had felt utterly close to getting another one a couple of times since then, hours where he just couldn't stop crying.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't raise a child.

Your child, his heart provided him harshly, she is your child. She is your daughter.

His small, tiny, breakable daughter. 

“And I don't even know your name.” He whispered and then looked around for the papers that Katya had given him, thumbing through them until he found the birth certificate, holding it in a shaking right hand while he read through it. “Anastasija. She named you for the lost Russian princess, and boy if she knew the truth.” He muttered and then looked back down at her, “Hey, my little princess, your name is a mouthful. You okay if I use Ana?”

No reaction was also a reaction.

“I'm gonna take that as a yes. What am I gonna do with you?” He asked out loud, placing the stack of papers under the top of the couch table to be sure they wouldn't get damaged. He reached for the diaper bag, took a good long look inside before reaching for the brown envelope.

It was filled with pictures.

Sonogram pictures where he could barely make out what was supposed to be what and...the first picture in the hospital as it was stated on the back. A tiny pink baby wrapped in a soft white blanket, face scrunched up but blue eyes wide open. She was so beautiful, so breathtakingly sweet and pure and just so beautiful.

And she was his.

His daughter. He had been part in creating something beautiful. His screwed up DNA had helped create something this angel like.

\--

For a few minutes he let himself breathe some more and busied himself with quickly tidying up the living room and kitchen from last night's movie watching stint, and then he finished brushing his teeth. Just because. 

But rather quickly he found himself kneeling in front of the baby carrier again, watching Ana and being watched by her in return. And then she reached out a hand, slowly, five tiny fingers being raised. 

Bucky stared in complete wonder how this little hand twitched clumsily, those blue eyes focused on him and nothing else, just him. When he didn't move, she grew agitated though, her lips began to quiver and her eyes filled with water, and he snapped into action when she gave a small sound of discomfort. Just a tiny noise. 

“Woah, hey, no, I'm here. I'm here, it's okay.” He soothed and offered a finger up to her small hand, holding his breath when she curled all tiny fingers around it and held on. Like really held on. He blew out a gasp and leaned closer, wriggled his finger a little, “Wow, that's a grip, princess. That's not something I remember from my sisters. I guess that answers one special question then, hm?”

Super Soldier baby. Yeah, as if that wasn't adding to the panic bubble in his chest.

Ana smacked her lips together and then she smiled.

Smiled at him.

And the panic broke away into small pieces, discarded to worry about later, because in that moment, nothing else mattered anymore. Bucky laughed and then smiled, and then he cried as well, silent tears falling down his cheeks as he carefully slipped his hands under her and picked her up. He brought her against his chest and let out a wet laugh when she grabbed his shirt.

“You're my daughter.” He sobbed himself through some breaths and closed his eyes briefly, more tears rolling down his face, “You're my daughter. You're beautiful and wonderful, you're so innocent and you're my daughter.” He whispered and then leaned down, breathed her in, nuzzled his nose against the softness that was her hair, and his entire body calmed, his mind quietened. 

Miracles did exist.

Wonders did happen.

Even to people like him.

He got to his feet, cradled her against his chest and then walked over to the windows, watched how Bucharest came alive in the morning sun, and then looked down again at the baby girl in his arms. So small, so soft, but so trusting. She was still smiling, but her eyes had closed again, one hand still holding onto his shirt, the other one was curled into a tight fist, and with her head resting against his heart, she fell back asleep.

\--

He couldn't let her go again.

As he was sitting on the couch, watching her sleep in his arms, he knew that he could never let go of her again, that he couldn't walk out of her life. His life had been such a mess, but it had calmed down, he had routines, he had control back over his life and he was happy. 

And she was his.

His blood. As pure and innocent and magical as she was, she was part of him. His DNA had gone into creating her life and so who better to raise her than him. Her own father. Sure, he would make mistakes and maybe screw up at times, but who knew what to do all the time. Which parents didn't poke around in the dark with the first child? Humans were allowed to make mistakes, you stood up to them, and then you learned from them.

She had the serum in her blood, maybe just parts of it, maybe it was only a softened version of what was flowing through his own veins, but no baby was this strong. And alone the thought that someone could find out and take her, that someone could decide to have her grow up in a lab, under the constant watch of doctors and scientists, it made his skin crawl, made him angry.

That someone could look at her and want to turn her into another asset.

He would never let that happen. He would personally make sure that she would always be protected, kept safe from all people who could possibly want her for her blood alone. 

She would be happy. She would be the happiest little girl in the entire world, he would make right by her. She would be sunshine breaking through a cloudy day. She would be that first warm spring day after a long cold winter. 

“You're gonna stay with me, my princess. We're gonna make this work, I have no plans right now, no idea how a future could look like.” He told her, stroking over one of her hands, “I am barely able to keep myself from endlessly sobbing right now, but we'll make it work.” He promised. Promised her and himself, sniffed through his tears and then closed his eyes.

He breathed out and then breathed in, pushed every noise away and focused only on the baby girl in his arms. Focused only on Ana, and when he heard her heartbeat fluttering in her chest, he smiled. He wouldn't leave her, he would love her, he would see her grow, hear her laugh. He would smile with her, he would dry her tears and rock her to sleep. He would hold her hand, cuddle and tickle her. He would chase the nightmare away and listen to her dreams and wishes.

“I will protect you.”

\--

“Let's note down amazing pair of lungs on the super powered list, why don't we?” Bucky called out over Ana's screaming not an hour after his decision to somehow make this work, to be there for his daughter where her mother had already abandoned her. “God, how can someone this tiny be so loud.” He muttered and rocked her some little more while the metal hand tried to do half a dozen things at the same time. 

Heating up a bottle of milk, thumbing through the freaking baby book and dangling one of the stuffed bears in front of Ana's scrunched up face.

“It's okay, you'll get a bottle soon. It's okay, sweetie, I know all that crying makes you only hungrier.” He soothed and then grinned when she seemed to scowl up at him, “Well, would you look at that, Granny Barnes would be proud, the Barnes scowl reaches your generation as well.” He joked and then chuckled, turning off the heat on the bottle and then taking it back into the living room.

He sat down on the couch and waited until the milk had cooled down a fraction again, then he offered it up to Ana and was immediately blown away by how strong she latched onto the bottle. With mouth and hands. “No one is going to take this away from you, princess, but at least I don't need to worry about you not eating.” He spoke more to himself and then smiled, leaning down to kiss her head.

“I'll figure this out, I promise. You and me, that should be a good team, don't you think?” He mused and grinned when she looked at him, “Bucky and Ana. That could be one happy family.”

\--

After another nap that he took himself as well this time, the damn baby book had stated that it was good to develop the habit of always catching some sleep when the baby was sleeping, they were both lying on the carpet in front of the turned off TV. Ana on her back on the blanket from the baby carrier, Bucky on his stomach with his chin propped up on his arms. He was watching her while she was watching her surroundings.

“My Ma would have gone crazy over you.” He said after a pause, “After pulling my ears and chasing my butt into the next century of course for you know...not having you after a marriage. But that would have been on me, and not on you. She would have adored you, Granny, too. And my sisters would have spoiled you, dressed you up like a doll.” He chuckled and rolled onto his side so he could reach out with one hand and play with curious fingers and kicking feet.

“You'll never be able to meet them, and there is so much I will have to explain to you about our unique situation and the status of my family. But you'll have people in this world who love you, I can promise you that. We'll meet two right this afternoon, once Nicu comes home from work, we'll go over. Maria will go crazy, so expect some crying and probably a lot of kissing.” He talked and stroked over her hands and feet, smiled at her and felt his heart melt every time she smiled too.

\--


	4. Bucky and Ana

The point though was...once he was clear that he was going to go through with this, that she was gonna be his and that no matter what happened he would never abandon this little gift of light, Bucky had no concrete idea what to do.

\--

He felt bad for the first two seconds after he had rung the bell, but Nicu and Maria had both told him that they were always going to help if he needed something, they had emphasized so many times that they were always gonna be there for him. The only two people who knew who he was in this new life of his, the only two people he trusted now to keep his nerves from just splintering apart.

Maria opened the door in the next moment and greeted him with an excited “Bucky!”, only to freeze in place when Ana gurgled happily in her carrier and hence pulled Maria's gaze down to her, and then she looked up again and must have seen the wide eyed look of something in Bucky's eyes, “Oh my.” She didn't say anything else, just gently pulled him inside and then steered him into the living room, shouting for her husband as she passed by the basement door.

She took the baby carrier from his hands and carefully set it down on the coffee table before pushing against his shoulders to sit on the couch, stroking a hand through his hair and pulling off the cap. She still hated that thing so much.  
“Okay, honey, from the beginning.” She said and sank down into the couch right next to him, intertwining their hands for comfort and Bucky looked from her to Ana curiously looking around the room and began to talk.

He grimaced a little when he spoke about Katya and the night after he had arrived in Bucharest, and then he told her about this morning and her turning up again. With the baby in tow. Told Maria about Katya rushing off again and making it unmistakably clear that she didn't want anything to do with the child.

“Her name is Ana.” He finished the story just as Nicu stepped into the living room and froze with one foot still in the corridor, “And I have no idea what to do.” He added, the desperation in his voice real, Nicu unfroze slowly and then walked over to his armchair, sitting down with a quiet sigh.

“Well, son, the first question is easy, do you...” He began, and Bucky knew immediately what he wanted to ask, so he interrupted.  
“The answer is yes. Yes, I want to keep her, I will not abandon her like her mother did. She is my daughter.” And he emphasized his point by taking Ana out of her carrier when she grew fussy, carefully bringing her up against his chest, holding that soft head tenderly in his palm.

He distantly remembered his mother's hands teaching him how to hold his baby sisters, felt the ghost touch of her warm hands rearranging his hands. 

Nicu smiled and Maria only looked at him long enough to bring her intentions across and wait for him to nod before she snatched up Ana, who blinked at her a little puzzled for a second before going back to curiously studying everything around her.   
“Oh, she has your eyes.” Maria noted with a quiet gasp after a moment and Bucky grinned at her, holding out a finger to Ana who latched on tight.

“It's not the only thing she got from me though.” He said with a look over to Nicu, whose face turned confused for only a split second before realization dawned in his eyes.  
“That changes things, doesn't it? But let me assure you, son, whatever happens, we'll have your and the little one's backs. You're part of this family, so she is as well. We'll figure this out together.” He smiled at Bucky who felt his shoulders get lighter again.

“Before you start rearranging your emergency schedules, we have more important things to do.” Maria stopped them before Nicu could have even continued, Bucky glanced over to her, “We need to go shopping for the little one. So much stuff you need, and clothes she needs.” She told him matter of fact, Nicu started laughing and Bucky groaned, head falling back against the couch.

Ana, entirely unimpressed, just kept on drooling and watching the curtains move in the breeze of the open windows.

\--

There were a lot of moments that Bucky would forever remember in the first weeks of this new life with Ana. Little moments that in the long picture would not hold great importance, and Ana wouldn't even remember them herself, but for him they would always be special.

He liked to tickle her, to cuddle her or stroke her little feet and hands, feel that soft skin. He liked to watch her sleep, felt so much happiness over having her lie on his chest and just sleep, steady deep breaths from that tiny chest against his, tiny fingers nested into his shirt, little feet kicking against his stomach. 

He liked watching her getting to know him, clumsy fingers touching his hands and his face, even the metal arm. He had fought with himself for a while, kept her on his flesh arm, touched her more with his real hand, but then came to a point where he realized that he was too scared of it, then she would be as well. And when Ana came into a fussy phase where she was only calm when carried by him, he was thankful for the metal arm, at least that one didn't grow tired. 

He also loved the times where they both laid on the soft carpet in the living room, quiet music playing in the background. He would doze or watch Ana try to stick her foot in her mouth, would chuckle when she rolled herself over to him and then call out with her short “gah” sounds to be picked up. He would place her on his chest and they would watch each other.

And at some point in that, Ana would give him what he came to love as his favorite sound in the whole wide world.

She would laugh.

At first only quiet giggles, sometimes even a really cute snort that made him so giddy for the rest of the day that he walked into a door.

But one evening while he was watching some TV and Ana was sitting on his stomach investigating the decorative straps on his shirt, he reached out to tickle her left foot. And Ana not only kicked at his hand but also let out a real loud laugh that surprised them both. 

“What was that, hm?” Bucky asked and turned to watch Ana how she blinked at him, “Did you just laugh, princess?” He reached for her foot again and let his finger brush over that soft sole, Ana scrunched up her nose and then started laughing again. She couldn't even get enough and grinned at him, kept on laughing when he swept her up with both hands and let her dangle right over him. Feet kicking and laughing, looking at him and only getting louder when he joined in as well.

She was so happy and he wanted to keep her like this forever, to never see her hurt, never see her sad and being unable to change it. He cherished these moments, reminded himself of these magical steps when his own demons started up again in the dead of night.

Together they would always be happy, he was sure of that, even after so little time.

\--

Bucky didn't need a lot of sleep, could go several nights in a row without any sleep at all, even longer if he had time to throw in some short twenty minutes naps. He knew this body inside out by now, he had time to find out what his limits were and how to avoid them. He knew what sounds to avoid, knew to keep away from crowds on the bad days.

He knew what he could take in physical labor, even without a week of sleep nothing in those numbers changed. He knew even better that it was the emotional and psychological stress that could force him to his knees way before his body needed the rest. 

Nightmares and flashbacks happened less and less, and he wrote a lot to him being happier and relaxed with Ana in his life, but it didn't mean it didn't happen at all.

Ana was four months and one week when Bucky gasped awake and found himself kneeling in the corner of his bedroom, metal hand clasped over his own mouth. Needing a moment to get his breathing down again, he blinked into the darkness and then leaned his head back against the wall. Just breathing. Pushing away the images in his head.

Make that another war moment remembered.

“Fuck.” He breathed out after a minute and then pushed himself to his feet, taking off the sweat soaked shirt and shorts before slipping into the shower. Quickly making sure that Ana was still asleep, he grabbed the baby monitor and sat himself on the balcony with his notebooks then, wrote until his hands stopped shaking and the images in his head stopped pounding on his brain.

When he was done, he looked up into the almost clear night sky and it was then that the real change in these hours post remembering got to his attention. There was no more twitchy unease, no more restless thoughts and panicked heartbeats. Bucky closed his eyes and listened to the quiet steady breaths over the baby monitor, let it soothe him back down.

He let his mind float back to the last day, remembered the new things she had learned, the happy little moments and the big ones. Every smile and every laugh, until he was smiling too.

\--

When the tables were turned and Ana was the one who couldn't sleep, Bucky found that he was cheating a little. Even after hours of rocking her and singing to her, he was not getting tired and could continue for even longer. 

Even kicking and screaming for bloody murder, she was the most beautiful and most precious little baby he had ever laid eyes on, and he loved everything about her.

Things only got trickier when he had a bad night and she had one as well, like the first time she got sick and he had gone through a series of fucked up nightmares. They ended up sitting crying on the balcony, her still cradled against his chest, with none of them probably knowing why they had started crying in the first place.

But then the sun broke over the horizon and colored the city gold and orange and Ana stopped, from one second to the next, the crying and screaming stopped and she stared with wide eyes and gaping lips at the view in front of them. And Bucky fell in trance watching her, how she was so completely captivated by her first sunrise experienced live, and his own tears stopped as well.

Bad days come and went, but the good days out-shined them all, and that was what mattered. And as Ana grew, so did his love for her.

\--

“CLOSE THE DOOR!”

Nicu jumped when Bucky yelled but obied and immediately slammed the door shut again just a split second after he had stepped into the apartment. Bucky slid into the living room on socks not a moment later, hair a mess and his hands holding a screwdriver.

“Thank you!” He sighed and then fell face first onto the couch, Nicu frowned at him but then looked down when he felt something tugging on his pants. Ana grinned, plopped back on her butt, looking way more relaxed than her pillow mumbling father.  
“Hey, there, champion.” Nicu smiled and made to bend down to pick Ana up, but with a quick grin, Ana was off and halfway across the room before he had even realized what had happened. “Wow.” He called out and straightened up again, Bucky groaned.

Nicu stared for a moment longer after Ana and then walked over to Bucky, pulling the screwdriver out of his hands and sitting down in the armchair.  
“She is fast.” He said in total awe and Bucky grunted, “When did that happen?” He wanted to know, looking around the chaos in the apartment, Bucky never let it get this out of control usually.  
“Yesterday.” Bucky whimpered and rolled onto his side, “She's faster then I can freaking blink.”

Nicu laughed, didn't stop laughing for minutes.

“Just look at you, legendary super assassin, half the world is terrified you might be plotting to take over everything. And here you are, not even fast enough to keep up with his own baby.” Nicu snickered and Bucky glared at him.  
“Are you saying I am losing my touch?” He wanted to know but was internally so happy over Nicu's words that he couldn't help but smile.

“I'm saying you might need a break.” Nicu offered and then help up the screwdriver, “What did you do with this?” Bucky waved over to the corridor that led to the bedrooms.  
“Bought one of those gate fences for her door, but it's like rocket science. She's climbing out of her bed as of this morning. I've spent the entire breakfast having one horror scenario after the next running through my head. The balcony railing is exactly as high as the one on her bed. Help me, Nicu, please.” Bucky begged and rolled his face into the pillows again.

“Come on.” Nicu encouraged him, “Let's look at that gate together and then we catch the racing baby and go over to my place. Let Maria spoil Ana, or let her chase the cat, and lean back for one afternoon, you really need some sleep, son.” And he hauled Bucky to his feet and pushed him over into the corridor, only to stumble over Ana in the next moment, “Jesus Christ, kid, don't do that!”

Ana just giggled and rushed off once more.

\--

“Oh, I know, I know.” Bucky agreed and pulled a face as well, “I know it hurts, baby, I know it hurts so much.” He soothed and rocked Ana some more, heart breaking at the sight of her tear stained face and those wide reddened eyes. One small hand fisted into his hoodie and the other tightly holding onto the teething ring, gnawing on it frantically, looking at him with alternatively pleading or betrayed eyes. 

It didn't lack in motivation certainly.

If only it wouldn't hurt so much.

It was the middle of the night, but after Ana had given up on sleeping anyway and was more interested in crying and screaming, Bucky had decided to give his poor neighbors a break. They could tell him as many times as they wanted that it didn't bother them, he still felt bad for the short nights.

Not that it was Ana's fault.

Teething sucked, really really bad. And not even her favorite songs had been able to distract her.

So he had bundled her up and taken her outside, walked with her along empty street and a silent city, and she had at least stopped screaming. She was still crying big tears, but he hoped his plan would be able to take her thoughts off of it. If only for a little while.

He shifted her a little higher against his chest, leaned down to kiss her nose and then opened the gate to the park, stepped onto the no more lightened path. It was only a few more minutes, Ana didn't even fuss when they stepped through the nearly black paths under the trees. She trusted him, she trusted him so blindly and it still threw him out of lane sometimes that the man she saw in him was something purely good. 

She didn't know of the monster, didn't know the killer, didn't know the man who had been so lost. All she knew of Bucky Barnes was the man who was her father, who loved her more than anything else and who would always protect her. Who dried her tears and tickled her feet. 

They reached the meadow in the middle of the park and he was happy that the sky was on his side, he sat down and placed Ana on his lap.   
“Okay, my angel. There is something I wanna show you.” He whispered and Ana looked up at him, so he pointed up at the sky, waited until she was following. “Can you see all those twinkling lights? Those are stars, and there is so much I want to tell you about them.”

She fell asleep against his chest, smile on her face and no more tears, still holding onto his hoodie, and Bucky smiled. He wrapped an arm around her and relaxed back into the grass, content to watch the stars for a little longer.

It was the first time they spent time outside watching the stars, with him making up stories and sharing what he already knew, but in time it would become a tradition. A hobby that father and daughter shared, something that would forever tie them together.

\--

Bucky was humming to himself, one hand stirring the potato soup while the metal one flipped through the cookbook from time to time, eyes reading over the receipts. The radio was playing the kid's channel and the songs had long ago gone straight to his bones, turning his brain into mush and having him quietly sing them under his breath even when they weren't playing.

But Ana enjoyed them, babbled along to them and she liked to swing her butt to the beats, holding herself up against the couch. She was going to be ten months old in less than a week, it was crazy how quickly time had passed, how quickly she had become the center of his entire universe and how he didn't want to miss a single thing.

Bucky looked over his shoulder, since she had become mobile, it was a busy job in itself to keep track of her all the time. It had been even more obvious than she was a little faster than other babies when it came to physical development when she started crawling, and now she was itching closer to walking with every day.

He didn't exactly have nightmares over it, but he worried. A lot.

But it seemed for now she was content to crawl around the kitchen, looking into cabinets then and now. Bucky was happy he wasn't storing the cookies in the lower ones.

“I have dinner ready in five minutes, princess, you can have a cookie after.” He said and saw how Ana plopped herself down on her butt maybe two feet from his left foot out of the corner of his eye. And then it happened.

She pouted and then huffed a breath, Bucky smirked at the soup, knew she had picked that up from him and had been only too happy to copy it.

“Papa.”

He dropped the cookbook and whirled around, staring down at Ana's big grin, small arms stretched up.

“Papa!” She repeated, louder this time, persistent grabby motions in her hands and Bucky grinned himself, and then he was laughing and swinging her up into his arms. Cheering and turning them in a circle, and Ana couldn't stop calling for him. 

“I love you.” He grinned and cooed at her after a few minutes, soup quickly turned down on the stove, “I love you, Ana. I love you, my princess.” Ana giggled and smacked him on the chin with a wet kiss and he returned it more softly on her cheek.  
“Papa.” She told him again, this time using a hand to point at him, “Papa!” and then she turned it on herself, “Ana.” And he smiled and kissed her again.

“Yes, my princess, Papa and Ana. One happy family.”

\--


	5. James/Samuel

It had to get worse before it got better.

Bucky's Mom used to tell him that when one of his sisters or Steve got sick again, when it seemed to only get worse, it often got better afterwards. Bucky knew from his own weeks spent in endless fever dreams post DC that it got to be terrible and horrible and close to unbearable before it got better. 

He had just thought so desperately that he could spare Ana of this lesson until she was much older, but as it was so often, fate had other plans.

\--

It had been a normal sunny day, and he had taken Ana out to the market, strapped into the stroller, something that had upset her immensely until he had shoved some cookies, her doll and an apple in her hands. They walked over the market, talked to the people Bucky had gotten to know by now and he worked himself down his list.

He was pretty sure by now that Ana hadn't eaten the apple and instead given it to Laila's son in exchange for more cookies, but at least she had stopped scowling. Everything was normal, just a normal happy day out, bags filled. Happy baby. Happy Bucky.

Until they came across the newspaper stand on their way back home and Bucky caught the headlines on accident. Then everything changed.

Vienna Bombings: Open Hunt for the Winter Soldier

“What the...” Catching himself at the very last second because Ana's ears were always right there when he slipped up on his curses, Bucky froze and dumbly reached for one of the newspapers.  
“It's interesting, isn't it?” The man sitting on his stool behind the booth spoke up and Bucky nearly had a heart attack when he looked up, but then man was only looking at the terrible pictures on the newspaper, “Guy has not been seen for two years, no word, no sign at all. And suddenly he's back, bombing the UN meeting. Makes you think if someone out there paid a lot of money to not have the Accords signed.”

The Accords, of course, the news feeds had been full of that in the last days, Bucky had just been too busy to really pay attention to it. He had hoped to catch up finally this weekend when Ana was out on her playdate with Luca's son.

Fuck.

“Did someone get hurt?” He asked all casual but interested, like a normal person would, tried to not show how frantic his heart was beating, thankfully it was still easy. Slip on a mask. Just a worried father, you're just a worried father, Bucky. His eyes flew over the text, tried to find any clues on where the officials were looking.

“Several government officials. The king of Wakanda got killed.”

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck fuck fuck.

Shit.

Goddammit.

Bucky was sure that the Soldier had never stepped foot into Wakanda or been sent anywhere near the isolated country, but he wasn't stupid. He knew exactly why that hadn't been the case. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“That is terrible.” Bucky gasped and the man nodded, “Do you think they'll catch him this time?” He added and the man shrugged, taking the money Bucky had quickly dug from his pockets to buy the newspaper, less suspicions.  
“Who knows if the guy has help, or who could be potentially helping him. You want my honest opinion? I'll think he'll vanish into smoke again. Law enforcement aren't sneaky, too much noise, he'll probably see them coming from miles away.” And then the man turned towards another costumer and Bucky started walking.

Walking and not overthinking.

Walking and not panicking.

Walking and not running.

He took Ana from the stroller, up into his arms, held her close and nuzzled his nose into her hair, having her squeal, but even Ana noticed that something was wrong soon. They were okay, she was in no direct danger. There was no reason they should suddenly start looking into Romania. They were okay, they had plans for these kind for situations.

Well, granted, they hadn't exactly thought someone else would set Bucky up for something that he obviously hadn't done, but why let his life be easy.

They would be okay.

\--

“Nicu?”

Losing all calm and patience the second the door of the shop was closed, Bucky pushed past the counter where Luca was arguing with a tourist over prices, Ana, by now sitting in the stroller again, had turned a little alarmed. Fussy and shifting, eyes constantly seeking him out.

He got as far as taking three steps into the back corridor before a hand shot out and pulled him into Nicu's office. Instincts acted first and he had Nicu pinned against the once again closed office door before he had even realized it was him. Ana started crying and Bucky dropped the metal arm from Nicu's throat, backing off into a corner and sliding down with gasping breaths burning in his throat.

“Shh.” He could sense Nicu moving to Ana first, taking her from the stroller and up into his arms, while Bucky shook and tried to bite back the screams. Pictures in his head. Karpov again. After him the Soldier had never fought against a handler again, had never raised a hand against anyone who wasn't a target ever again. “Shh, little angel, it's okay. It's all okay. Your papa just got scared.” Nicu tried to soothe Ana who whimpered for Papa, but Bucky couldn't take her right now, not when his fingers still felt Nicu's throat under them.

“Bucky?”

He shook his head harder when Nicu crouched down before him, one arm tight around Ana, his other hand reaching out to slowly be placed onto Bucky's shoulder.  
“Bucky, I need you to breathe. It's gonna be okay, we have a plan, Bucky.” Nicu's voice broke through the harsh commands of Karpov in his head and Bucky clung to it. Flesh hand coming up to curl around Nicu's wrist, “There you go, son, it's all gonna be okay. Just stay here with me.”

\--

“Bucky?” Nicu asked, coming back into the office where he had left to talk to Maria and give Bucky five minutes to clear his head, cradling a now sleeping Ana against his shoulder and despite all the panic seizing him up from head to toes, Bucky still had to smile. He didn't have to remind himself that she was worth all this, it was always right there in his head, always the first thought. She was worth the fighting, she was worth the running, she was worth holding on. She was worth it to have hope when there seemed to be no way out. 

“Yeah?” He drew his eyes away from his peacefully sleeping daughter when Nicu stopped by the edge of his desk, his hand placing the piece of paper down on it that Bucky had given him months ago. Emergencies only. Use in case they got him back. Use in case someone needed to stop him. He starred at it for a long moment and then sighed, tapped the first number and buried his face back into his hands. Nicu made another step closer and reached out to squeeze his shoulder.

“It's gonna be okay, you got to believe, Bucky.” Nicu said and then pushed until Bucky straightened up again, he handed Ana back over and then snatched up the paper with the numbers, “Are you sure with your choice? The first number?” Bucky looked up and caught those warm eyes.   
“I am sure, yes. He is the only one I trust to make the right call.” Bucky told him and then focused on Ana's little weight in his arms, her relaxed little face, her puckered lips.

“I hope we are on the same page over what the right call will be then.”

Nicu didn't say anything anymore, instead he walked back outside and the last thing Bucky heard before the door closed behind him was the sound of a phone ringing.

It would work. It would work out, it was going to be okay. He just had to believe.

\---  
\---

Three days earlier

\--

It had to get worse before it got better.

Sam's Mom used to tell him that when the pressure got to be too much again, when people kept on pushing at him again in school, when his sister got home crying again because people once more had made fun of her. It gets worse, and then it gets better.

He had just hoped so desperately that this time he might be spared the last steps of the downwards spiral, that just maybe this one time he did not have to hit rock bottom before it went up again.

\--

“Sarah?...Sarah, listen...” Sam groaned and let his head fall forward against the window glass, tired eyes watching the busy hectic of Kennedy Airport, even so late it was a steady come and go. Never ending. Never resting. Always noisy. Always in motion.

He knew very well what that felt like, knew it too well by now. 

Shifting the phone higher against his ear, Sam turned to lean against the window front with his shoulder, watching Steve sit at the other end of the waiting hall, face covered by his hand again. He looked as miserable as he had to feel, and Sam still wanted to kill the person who had thought sending this information via text had been any kind of a good idea.

“Sammy, you cannot be serious. Flying to London? You need to catch a fucking break, you can't keep going like this.” His sister snapped out and Sam flinched, reminded of the drunk tired phone call he had made to Sarah a couple of weeks ago, telling her just how tired he was.  
“I can't let Steve go alone, sis. He is crushed, Carter meant the world to him.” He explained, whispering, one hand always reaching out to keep himself up against something.

And the shock over the Accords and what it meant, it hadn't even sunken in yet. 

“And I'm sad for him, too, but you have to stop and take a break. Sam, I'm really worried about you. Mom is going crazy, every time the Avengers have gone out, she calls me to fret over how skinny you have gotten.” Sarah's voice got raised a little before she calmed again, huffing out a breath. Sam dropped his gaze to the ground again, shoulders slumping.  
“Well, she will be happy to know that those times are over then.” He said quietly and on the other end of the line, across one whole ocean, his sister gasped.

“What? Sam, what the hell happened?” Sarah demanded from him and Sam fell against the window front with a sigh, far across the waiting hall, Steve looked up, red eyes searching until they found him, brows furrowing together. Sam tried to smile. And failed.  
“Did you hear about the Sokovia Accords yet?” He began simple, picking himself up again and walking back over to Steve.

“Yeah, of course, it was on the news this morning. Been throwing a lot of waves in Europe since then.” Sarah replied to him, sounding if possible even more worried now.  
“Well, Avengers were confronted with them as well. I didn't sign.” He made it short, knew that his sister would understand everything he didn't say, “And if you don't sign, well...you're retired.” He added and sank back down into the seat next to Steve.

“I'm sorry, Sammy, I know how much this meant to you, being back out there, helping and flying.” He smiled at her words, even though it was a fake one, Steve set a hand on his knee and squeezed.   
“Not under their conditions, not when it's their orders.” He clarified and Sarah hummed in agreement, even though she was very much military herself, she had always understood why he had needed out of that world.

“Hey, listen.” She changed the topic then, “When the funeral is over, why don't you come over to Brussels, spend a few days here, get some quiet. I really miss you like crazy, big brother.” Sam had to swallow really heavy to overcome the emotions welling up in his chest, but if the last months had taught him anything than how good he had become at swallowing everything not smiley in himself down.

Put up the walls, put on the smile. 

Nothing can hurt you, if you ignore it.

He hadn't seen Sarah in over a year, hadn't seen his mother in months. He hadn't talked to his friends in DC in even longer. 

He was so burned out, and still he couldn't sit still, couldn't power done, not even when there wasn't a mission or a fight or a training session. Downtime meant his head taking him places he didn't want to revisit anymore, downtime meant shaking hands, so he didn't give himself any time to power down.

Sam knew that he was miles over his limit. Physical. Emotional. 

But he couldn't fall. He couldn't let go.

“Flight 2940 to London beginning boarding now.”

“I need to go, flight just got called up, but I would love to see you again, sis, I've missed you too. I'll call you tomorrow, I promise.” Sarah said her goodbyes as well and then he pushed his phone into his jacket pockets and then dragged himself to his feet. Steve, silent as a rock, moved slowly as well.

When they were sitting in their seats about ten minutes later, Sam found himself staring at the seat in front of him just as much Steve did to the one in front of him. After a long moment as people still got settled around them, Steve sighed.  
“I really hate this week.” He whispered and Sam snorted, reaching over to clap a hand to Steve's thigh.

“You and me both, buddy, you and me both.”

Steve set his hand on top of his and squeezed, once, then twice before he turned his head to stare out of the window, his head a million miles away. Decades, Sam corrected inside his head, decades away, because he could easily see the old compass Steve was clutching in his other hand. 

He wondered if it burned against his skin just like the dog-tags Sam carried around his neck, hidden by his shirt. And he wondered if inside his head Steve saw Peggy Carter smiling and laughing just like Sam could see Riley still.

\--

The funeral was beautiful, as sad as the occasion was, Carter at least got a respectful send off and Sam managed to once again shut every crying voice inside his own head out. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how tired he was, he had always managed to put his friends' pain first. 

He knew it wasn't healthy, knew why it wasn't good, but habits were hard to break.

And he wanted to be there for Steve.

He had time to think about himself when he got to Sarah's, reboot, recharge, and then figure the hell out what he was supposed to do now. 

But of course life and fate had other plans for him. Nothing ever worked in favor of Sam Wilson.

He had waved Steve and Sharon goodbye, hoped they would make something of a quiet moment alone, and he had turned towards the bar to get something to drink, take the freaking edge off inside his head. Only to freeze when he caught sight of the monitor in the corner.

Everything inside of him began to scream as the images of the burning UN building in Vienna played out on screen, interrupted only by the terrible security camera taken picture of the suspect.

The suspect.

The Winter Soldier.

James Buchanan Barnes.

What.

The.

Hell.

“Oh, fuck.” He muttered and bee-lined by the actual bar counter to get closer to the screen, ears picking up the newscaster's voice.

“...sad to announce the death of Wakanda's king, T'Chaka. No further comment has been made about the disappearance of his son, Crown Prince T'Challa. Austria's prime minister and French President Hollande remain in critital condition, further...”

“Oh fuck fuck fuck.” 

Turning on the spot so quickly that he got dizzy for a second, Sam grabbed onto the closest table to keep himself upright. Thoughts racing through his head quicker than bullets. How was this possible? Two years the guy is gone like the wind and suddenly he bombs the UN? And since when did a trained sniper use C4? Had they all been his target? But who could have given the orders to take out the UN? Hadn't they almost ended Hydra by now? No sense, no sense, no sense. None of it was making sense.

Find Steve, call the team, assemble the team, make a.... Oh. Or not.

He was still moving before he realized what was happening, falling into Falcon's headspace easily, the emergency measure. Sam was tired and burned out, but the Falcon could always give more. He spotted Steve and Sharon standing close by the elevator, eyes only for each other and he hated what he had to say.

“Guys, you might wanna take a look at this.”

And then it took ten minutes for Sam to realize that his breaking point wouldn't wait for the privacy of his sister's apartment.

“I have to go to Vienna.”

\--

“You can't be serious!”

Sam didn't know when this had turned into an argument but Steve's simple statement had set something loose inside his chest that was now all but finished in creating a whole maze of panic bubbles. His head couldn't stop making up one scenario after another on how he could lose his best friend again.

Barnes going down the deep end, luring Steve out to finally fulfill his mission. Barnes having lost it, all but cracked under too much stress, and Steve running face first into his fist. Wrong time, wrong place and Steve between Barnes and the gun of a law enforcement officer. 

“Steve, we're not Avengers anymore!” Voices had been raised minutes ago, and Sam still could barely hear it behind the pounding in his ears, the blood rushing through his head and heart so quickly, making him dizzy. Steve had his hands clenched into fists at his sides, ready to stubborn his way through everything, Sam knew the look by now.

Knew how to deal with it.

If only he had any energy left.

“Don't you think I fucking know that by now?” Steve snarled back at him, behind him on the TV, the news reels from Vienna kept on playing and all Sam could see was bombs exploding, debris falling down from the sky. No news about Steve, not knowing if he was alive. Searching and running, and so much pain everywhere. People hurt. People dead. DC in a panicked chaos, no one to trust.

“Steve, no one here has to yell.” Sharon tried her best to soothe the situation down again, but her phone kept on buzzing and ringing and she had to take those calls, grimacing her way through every conversation. And it wasn't fair, no time to grieve for anyone. Sam hated the world, he hated Barnes, he hated the CIA, he hated the fucking Accords.

“You can't go.” He tried pleading again, voice already shaky, “You can't go, Steve, you cannot run into this now. We can't act on European soil, and who knows if we can do anything to help at all. If Barnes...”  
“He didn't do this.” Steve snapped and his eyes were glaring slits, “He didn't do this, Sam. Why would he have any reason to bomb the UN?” 

Sam was confused himself, puzzled over why Barnes had finally come out of the shadows after two years with such a move, but who knew what could possibly be going on inside that man's head. Maybe it didn't make sense, but none of it meant that Barnes had not not cracked and gone for the government heads, maybe he had seen people who had been involved with Hydra, but none of it forgave such an attack.

“I have to go and find him before any of them do!” Steve barreled on with no eyes for collateral damage, and Sam wanted to run, he wanted to run into his room and lock the door. Just away from this, he couldn't do this anymore. He didn't want to fight, they would just hurt each other, they were both in so much pain and he couldn't fight anymore. 

“Then tell me your plan.” He changed course, spine screaming in protest when he braced himself, “Tell me your plan, what do you got? Tell me and I'll think about it, right now, right here.” He offered Steve, who only blinked back at him for a way too long moment.  
“You know what I want.”

“Steve...No, I don't.”

“I will find him and I will protect him. These people don't know what he has been through, they don't know how to deal with him.” Steve went on, going back to his angry pacing, Sam felt Sharon coming to stand by him, her small hand at the small of his back, giving support and comfort while Steve finally went down the deep end. Out of control. Sam had feared it would happen, but the timing couldn't have been worse.

You don't know how to deal with him either, he wanted to yell, but he couldn't, his mouth suddenly so dry, throat so tight. You couldn't find him before, how will you do it now, he wanted to ask, but no words left his lips.

“He is the only thing I have left of a life that was ripped away from me. He is my oldest friend, Sam, I know him. I don't need more for a plan.” Steve ranted and Sam felt the words pounding against his skull. No, you don't. You don't know him, you know the person he was, not the ghost he has become. But I know you, I know you and I am scared. 

And without knowing he had spoken the last words out loud and Steve froze on the spot, head slowly turning to look at him.

“I'm scared, Steve. I'm so tired and I'm scared.” Sam began to talk, quietly now, hands reaching out to grasp the back of the chair closest to him, “We lost our team, Steve. This is everything we have now. You and me. No more Avengers, no more back-up. And I'm exhausted.” Putting as much emphasis on the last word as he could, “I can't fight anymore, all we've been doing is fighting. Hydra, always Hydra, and now each other. And I can't do this anymore. ”

Steve had grown so still.

“I can't sleep, all I see when I close my eyes is Riley falling. Over and over again. I see DC burning and it hurts. And now these Accords and we lost our fucking team. Our friends.” His heart kept on racing in his chest, his breaths coming quicker whenever he thought about the Accords, about the team they had left behind the moment they had decided to not sign. Sam stood to his decision to not sign. He had left the Air Force for a very good reason, he would not have governments ordering him around anymore, no more institutions deciding how and where he was supposed to place his life on the line. And most of all, telling him where he couldn't go.

He had left that behind.

For the chance to live his life in free decisions. No more suits and uniforms telling him how to fight and where to go. Following Steve, following Cap, becoming an Avenger, it had been different, there had always been options and choices. Steve had made it abundantly clear to him that he didn't want Sam to follow, he has asked him to fight at his side.

And Sam had always had the choice to step out. To say no. To get out if he needed to. The Accords would have taken that from him, and he couldn't let that happen, no after what Shield had turned out to be. Not after what Stark and Steve had told him about Manhattan and the nuke. He knew the Avengers had made mistakes, but it had been theirs, and they had placed their heads on the line.

Signing the Accords would have meant becoming the face of someone else's decisions, holding his head into the line of fire for the potential mistakes and bad plans of government institutions or law enforcement groups. Sam couldn't get in line with that.

He had a choice, and he took it. 

He was tired, he was dead on his feet, and he needed out.

“Sam...” Steve began but Sam waved it away, raised his eyes to look at Steve, no more pretending, no more hiding how tired he really was, no more hurting smiles. He had never wanted to show a mask when it had been Steve, after what they had been through, they had both deserved more, but it had been so difficult. So difficult to go against his instincts, to not hide. 

“No, it's my time to talk now.” Even though it was so exhausting, “I know that Vienna looks suspicious, that it is strange that Barnes suddenly returns like this, but we don't know what is really going on. I want to help Barnes, too, Steve, but we don't know what kind of state he is in...You told me two years ago that I would only need to say one word and I could get out, that I don't follow but fight side by side with you.” Steve nodded, tensed from head to toe, “I can't fight anymore, Steve. I've pushed myself past every limit I ever learned about myself, to do good, to keep up, but now I'm tired. Being an Avenger made me proud, it made me happy to be part of something again, to fight side by side with friends.”

He swallowed, heavy and long. Natasha and Jim had been his friends, and now? Vision, Wanda, Clint. Stark. Standing on different sides, divided by a government document. Who knew what was going to happen now.

“I had to choose between the easy way and the right one, and I chose to go with what I believed in. It probably cost me friendship and my job, but I don't regret what I chose. So I'm sorry, but this is the moment, Steve, I can't come with you to Vienna, but there is nothing more to say either. I need out.” And he stopped, having said everything he hadn't wanted to say. Keep it in, smile, move on, it had always been so easy, but not anymore.

He was tired, he was done. Nightmares after nightmares, no more strength, no more energy. Sam wanted home. Really home. He wanted his family.

“So, tell me your plan.” He went at it again, “Tell me your plan and we'll talk about it. Tell me what you want to do, step by step. Because for two years, I was out there, looking, turning every single rock around that I came across. I tracked through dozens of countries, trying to find the smallest of signs for Barnes, but I didn't find anything. What great plan will suddenly change that? Because if you tell me now, that for over a year I was running around, blindly searching for a guy without an actual plan, that it all was just some wild goose chase that kept me from seeing my family for months, then we have an even bigger problem than you could possible imagine right now.”

They both stared at each other, no one said anything for a moment, Sharon's phone buzzed again.

“Time is running out. I have to go. I'm sorry, Sam.”

Steve took one last look at him and then he stormed from the room, grabbing his jacket on his way, Sharon rushed after him. But then she stopped in the door and turned around again, face twisted between the choices but Sam took it from her. All he wanted now was to be alone.

To be what he felt like on the inside anyway.

“Go.” He told her, his hands still grasping onto the back of the chair with all the strength he had left, trying to keep himself on his feet, trying to keep this one thing in appearances up still.  
“Sam...” She tried carefully but he shook his head, wanted to say something but with the tears running down his face and the sobs stuck in his throat he couldn't bring himself to say the word okay.

Maybe he had finally reached the point where he couldn't even be okay anymore.

The door fell softly shut behind her and Sam slid to the ground, legs giving away until he was sitting in the middle of the hotel room, hands splayed over his face, sobs breaking free.

\--

“You know...” Sarah began carefully, her hands stroking through his hair where Sam was lying on her couch in her small apartment in Brussels, sixteen hours after leaving London, Steve and Sharon already long gone. “When you said you had a fight with Rogers...you didn't mean break up, right?” Sam groaned and pressed another tissue over his face.

“Steve and I didn't break up, we're not a couple. He's...he's my best friend, sis.” He answered her and then his voice broke once more in the end and he cried. Stupid breakdowns and stupid tears. He hadn't stopped crying for two hours in that bloody hotel room in London and then grabbed the first flight out of there. His sister had picked him up at the airport, brought him to the apartment she lived in since she had been stationed in Belgium and Sam had let go.

He had told her what had happened, no more classified bullshit, it was all going down the fucking drain anyway. He had cried, too tired, too exhausted, and Sarah had held him, just like she did now. One hand in his hair, one hand on his stomach so his hands could clutch onto hers if he wanted. She had made lunch and then forced him to eat something, they had kept the TV and the radio turned off, Sam didn't even check over his phone. There was a message from Natasha, but he had immediately gone to delete it again.

He couldn't.

He couldn't run after Steve again, he couldn't do this anymore. He needed a break, a fucking break so he could breathe. He needed just one moment to breathe. Just let him be himself for one fucking day.

Sarah didn't say anything when he cried harder, just started humming again. Humming the old lullaby that their grandmother had always picked to soothe them. It reminded Sam of Harlem immediately, made him miss it even more, but also brought it back so real. The smell, the air, the warmth of his mother's apartment. The sound of children laughing. His mother smiling. The smell of her best cookies. The taste of them. 

“Do you wanna make cookies?” He sobbed out more than he really spoke but Sarah heard him immediately, her hand stilling in his hair. And then he felt her lean down, eyebrows raised as she looked at him. “I'm a fucking mess.” He agreed with the look in her eyes, “But I'm a fucking mess who wants cookies.”

“At least you'll eat something then.” She relented and shushed him off her lap, and then into the kitchen and Sam let himself be distracted from the aching hole in his chest. Distracted for once not by even more violence and fighting, more pain and hopelessness, but by the sweet smell of delicious cookies and the bright sun filled laughter of his much loved sister when he dropped the flour all over his pants.

It felt strange almost, how a simple thing like baking cookies with one of his favourite people in the world could set so much into balance again in his heart. It felt like all pieces falling together again, as if his soul had finally found the right starting point to puzzle the pieces of his tired mind back together. 

He had missed his sister, terribly so, phone calls and video call sessions, it wasn't the same, couldn't even begin to grasp how close they had once been. But now, back together in one place for one day and it felt like time hadn't changed them at all. She centered him, teased him, but she also pulled him into hugs and squeezed his shoulder, kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair so much that he was convinced it would never settle down again.

But it helped.

It helped him take a first deep breath again.

“Thank you.” He told her late that evening, sitting in front of the TV, watching some silly little rom-com while, eating ice cream straight from the bucket and cookies from the overflowing bowl. “I really don't know what I would do without you sometimes.” Sarah didn't say anything in return, just leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled. And Sam felt at home, halfway around the world, for the first time in years, he really felt at home.

He slept like the dead that night, despite lying on the couch in an unknown apartment, despite the worry about Steve running head first into a possible confrontation with the Winter Soldier that he might not return from. But Sam slept, because his body needed a break, the exhaustion in his bones and his heart, it took control over everything finally.

Sarah took watch and Sam slept.

\--

In the morning, he didn't feel like a new person, there were still hard edges, still not everything puzzled back together again, but his chest felt lighter, his shoulder could expand again. He held his spine straight as he stumbled into the kitchen for coffee.

For the first time in months, a night had passed without him seeing Riley fall over and over again. His head had allowed him to truly rest, and it felt like the first sunshine after weeks of rain, as if he could finally start thinking again.

He kissed his sister's head where she sat with her face nearly buried in her bowl of cereal and walked with his cup of coffee over to the kitchen shelf where he had buried his phone behind bags of sugar and flour. No news from Steve, or about Steve, which at this point was a better development than Sam had feared.

“Anything?” Sarah grouched from her still half sleeping position at the kitchen table and he shook his head, was about to open his mouth to speak when the phone in his left hand suddenly started ringing.

Unknown number.

“Sammy?” Sarah wanted to know, now alert, Sam became aware of the frown on his face, thumb hovering over accept. He set the cup down on the kitchen table, turned to look at his sister and then took the call.

“Wilson?”

“Mister Wilson, my name is Niculai Lupei. I am calling on behalf of a friend.”

\--


	6. James/Samuel II

It took three hours for Nicu to get an answer. Three hours until his phone rang again.

They closed down the shop early for the day in the meantime, Nicu took Bucky and Ana home to Maria and together they sat down to plan it all out. Just like they had been prepared for months ago. Bucky had never given himself a chance to be naïve, he had always known that the time might come when he had to run again, had to hide and restart his life once more. 

Hope though. He had always hoped that it might not come to this, that maybe, just maybe he could have been allowed to live in peace, especially once Ana had come around. She didn't deserve any of this, and still he couldn't let her go. He loved her, he loved her so much and he would protect her, and it hadn't been a difficult decision at all in the end. 

And Bucky already knew in that moment that he would spent the rest of his life making up for this offer of help. He owed Sam Wilson a gratitude that could never be put into words, it just couldn't be enough, a start but never enough.

He had hurt him, had nearly killed him. And still here he was, crying in Nicu's backyard, chest burning in relief. It didn't matter what happened to him, he already had plans for how it would go on, he just needed to know that Ana was safe, that none of these pigs would get their grimy hands on her.

He didn't deserve what he dreamed of, but she did. She deserved everything, most of all a good and happy life.

\--

Nicu and Maria drove them to the airport once Maria was back with what she had packed for Ana and him, they helped him with check-in, were like a pillar of strength while he felt himself falling apart more and more with every step. Ana was beginning to notice that something was wrong, but she didn't throw much fuss anymore, instead she clung even tighter to Bucky and held on.

Bucky forced himself to remain calm for her, but it was difficult, free falling all over again, just because of what someone else had done. Innocent but hunted. Never able to really outrun your past, never safe.

“Hey, head up, my boy.” Maria whispered to him, curling one hand around his face, turning his head up to look at her, they were still standing outside the special luggage counter after checking in the stroller. “We will fix this, we just need to have some hope. You have friends in this world, do not forget that. The truth will come out, they will find the one who is responsible for the bombs and you will be able to come home, and have the life that you deserve.” She hugged him then, careful because of Ana between them, but still warm and tight, and Bucky gave himself a short moment of holding on.

He knew that by leaving Nicu and Maria behind, he was losing one of his most important anchors and it was pure fear that was threatening to shake him apart upon the thought of that. He needed help, a help that he couldn't get from Nicu or Maria anymore, a help that he had been running from for months.

But Ana needed protection, she needed to be safe.

And if he had to give up his own freedom for it than he would do it in a less than a heartbeat. She was important, her life was important and he would do everything for her. 

“Remember to make sure that...” He started and Nicu interrupted him with a smile quickly, one hand on the elbow of the metal arm, subconsciously trying to hold Bucky up, like he had done so many times before.  
“That the apartment is empty of anything that could lead to Ana. Bucky, it's gonna be okay. No one will find out until it's time. Breathe, my boy.” He said, his voice calm, believing, and Bucky so desperately wanted to believe, too.

“Don't forget us.” Maria added and Bucky was already shaking his head, closing his eyes when she kissed his cheek and then Ana's head.   
“I will never forget you. Thank you for everything.” He forced past his lips, his throat so choked up, works coming harder already. Nicu shook his hand and then squeezed his shoulder, leaning down to also kiss Ana's head, Maria was wiping tears away.

“We'll always be here, Bucky. You'll always have a home with us, my son.”

\--

Bucky had after some consideration chosen flying over the train because it was faster, airports had more security than train stations, but he chose risk over a more than day long trip with a baby and hundreds of strangers in a tight cabin. His nerves couldn't take that at the moment. A train ride would have also gone through Vienna, no way around it, and that had been a higher insane risk than getting through passport control at Brussels' airport. 

He knew that he didn't look like the man they were chasing, Maria would have never let him out of the house if he had let himself go like that again. And for today, she had put it on extra heavy. Grey sweater, blue checkered shirt, light brown cotton pants, sneakers, Bucky had cringed when he had caught sight of himself in the mirror.

He looked like a complete Dad nightmare.

But no one would see the Winter Soldier in him when they couldn't even look long enough at him because the sweater was so goddamn ugly. 

Even Ana kept poking at it when they sat in their seat in the first row on the plane, waiting for the last passengers to take their seats and the pre-flight routine to start. Scowling up at him and stabbing another finger against the way too soft fabric.  
“Nana Maria gave this to me.” He told her quietly, Ana just kept on scowling, “I couldn't say no, she has that scary squint.” He pointed out to her, bouncing her a little on his knee, as stereotypical as he looked, people would barely be able to look away from his sweetheart anyway.

Ana was dressed to the nines. 

Maria had put her cutest dress on her, red with white polka dots and the white matching bow in her hair. Red tights, red shoes with tiny black bows. She looked too cute, and Bucky felt himself smiling at her despite the knot in his stomach that just kept on growing.

Hope. Have hope for her.

“You look pretty though, going somewhere, young Miss?” He joked and Ana curled up her lips into a grin when she saw her Dad smile again, “Yeah, that's it, sweetie, we just gotta have to smile. It'll be okay, I'll make sure of it.” He promised her and Ana babbled back at him, pushing herself up against his chest until she could get her feet under herself, “And who can not smile when they see someone this beautiful?”

“Papa!” Ana cheered and then smacked his chin with wet lips, having him roll his eyes but then lean down to kiss her forehead.  
“Yeah, Papa will protect you.” Bucky agreed, “I'll do the right thing.” He looked up when a stewardess stepped up to his row, the plane was only half filled, he was alone in the first row. His nerves were thankful, it made the paranoia and discomfort easier to handle when there was no one breathing down his neck.

“Can I help you with anything, Sir? Anything you need before we take off?” The young blond woman asked him and Bucky smiled, and then snickered when Ana grabbed his nose and yanked to get his attention back on herself.  
“No, thank you, but we're good.” He replied and turned Ana towards the window so she could be momentarily distracted with the busy airport field.

“First flight?” The woman wanted to know and he nodded, “Let me know if I can help you with anything, Sir.”

\--

“I can't believe we're doing this.” Sarah gave a little hoarse laugh, setting the turn signal and accelerating onto the fast lane. In the passenger seat of her sweet little German car, Sam sent a glare over to her, arms still crossed over his chest, watching the Belgium landscape race by them.  
“I can't believe this actually turned into an us.” He grouched and then huffed when Sarah slapped a hand against his thigh, “Keep your hands on the freaking steering wheel.”

“I know how to drive.” Sarah snapped back at him, smiling, fucking smiling and Sam couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe how they had gone to “I want to go” over to “We're going” in the span of half an hour without him having been able to get a single word in before Sarah had stood before him with a packed bag, car keys and a jacket.

He was surrounded by people who never fucking made any fucking plans.

“And I know how you drive, so keep your hands on the steering wheel and your eyes on the bloody road.” He sniped back at her, the two of them in one car, there had been a reason why his mother had hated road trips. It was like they couldn't be nice to each other when a car got rolling, especially not if one of them was driving, not that they ever meant anything behind it, it just seemed second nature by now.

“You gotta relax, Sammy. Would the guy have called for help if he only wanted to cause more trouble? Why bother having someone vouch for your innocence and swear that there is evidence for an alibi when it was all just a lie?” Sarah tried to reason and Sam snorted. He didn't know what to make of that phone call, the man had sounded sincere, not acting, he had sounded truly worried and appalled over what had happened. 

Had someone really set Barnes up? 

Was this Hydra's last coup? One last desperate try to get their asset back into their hands?

But then why was nothing making sense?

Why put so much attention on the Winter Soldier then?

Nothing was making sense. Everything was so confusing.

And he couldn't believe his little sister was freaking coming with him to meet with Barnes in some remote hotel in Antwerp.

“Sammy, come on, it's gonna be okay.” Sarah smiled at him and took his hand, squeezing briefly and Sam sighed, dragged his other hand over his face. In his jacket pocket his phone weighed heavy, like a brick, reminding him that there was a guy looking for just the man he was driving to meet now. “It could be fun.” And trust Sarah to get his mind off of the guilt quickly again.  
“Fun?” He croaked in her direction and frantically waved towards the street again when she turned to look at him, “Seriously, fun? The only reason I'm not freaking out is just because I don't know where to begin! Too much fun is really not the problem right now.”

\--

Bucky took a deep breath and leaned back behind the wheel of the simple dark blue French car, watching the airport building in the distance. Everything had gone well, no second glances, no weird faces, no hesitant questions, just a boring father on holidays with his little girl. He had rented a car, complete with booster seat, Ana smiled at everyone and no one even looked at him.

So why was he freaking out?

“Papa?” Ana chirped up from behind the passenger seat and he turned halfway around, heart calming down upon that downright glowing happy grin being thrown in his face.  
“What's up, princess?” He asked and Ana held up the empty plastic container, Bucky scowled, “You cannot be serious.” But Ana kept on grinning at him, shaking the container in his direction, “Papa is having an existential crisis and you're only worried about more cookies.” He rambled but rolled his eyes and reached for his backpack on the passenger seat.

Grabbing the bag of her favorite cookies, he poured some more into her container, “Pace yourself, girl, I don't know if they have your favorites here, too.” He told her but Ana snapped the container back onto her lap and already had the next cookie in her hand. “People will think I feed you nothing else but cookies.”  
“Cookies.” Ana declared without looking up, turning said cookie over in her hand, Bucky chuckled and shook his head. Ana looked up upon that sound, smiled again, she loved it when he laughed, reaching up with her little hand she blew him a kiss.

Bucky caught it right out of the air and pressed it carefully to his heart with two fingertips, Ana went wild with the giggles but also looked deeply pleased.  
“How can I ever deserve you and that smile?” Bucky asked himself quietly and then turned back up front, turning the key in the ignition, he started up the car and then steered it off the parking lot, “You ready to met someone very special, shorty?”

“Have cookies?” Came the answer from the backseat and Bucky sighed, closed his eyes for a split second, trying not to snort.  
“You're gonna end up selling your old Papa for a roll of cookies, aren't you?” He laughed and glanced at Ana in the rear-view mirror, happily chewing on her cookie. “You gonna leave Papa for cookies?”

“No.” Ana answered quickly, shaking her head, “Papa always more cookies.” And Bucky laughed, turned the car onto the highway and let speed take them away from the airport and Brussels.  
“Good to know, I'm gonna keep that in mind for your teenage years.” He mused out loud and then turned on some music. A couple of hours driving, to get his head to calm down, he had nothing to fear, nothing to freak out about.

This was for Ana. For her safety. 

No one needed to believe him, no one needed to be on his side, no one needed to understand why he did what he did or why he wanted to do what he had decided to do.

Ana needed to be safe and if he had to write his life away for that, he would do it in a heartbeat. Sam Wilson had no reason to trust him, quite on the contrary, he had led Steve on a wild chase around the world, just to keep him off his back and Wilson had gone along, Wilson had enough reason to hate him, but still, he had agreed to meet.

Meet without Steve.

Ana needed to be safe, whatever came then...it was probably not gonna be pretty, but Bucky knew what he had to do if he ever wanted to have even the smallest chance of living a life in undisturbed peace with his daughter. 

“Papa, cookies?”

“OH MY GOD!”

\--

“Looks kinda boring.” Sarah spoke up after they had been sitting in the car and watching the hotel in front of them for over ten minutes in silence already.   
“I think that's the intention.” Sam told his sister and once more looked over the simple faded yellow building, it was something that wouldn't stick to your memory, just another one of those places people pass by. Small, but not too small to have people remember faces for ages. Two buildings, one with the rooms, one with reception, restaurant and apparently a small indoor pool.

Their car was not the only one in the parking lot, but it wasn't really brimming with life either, early afternoon, Sam couldn't decide between being happy they would be almost alone or uneasy that they would almost be all alone in this place. His back-up plan, because he in fact fleshed those out before going somewhere where you could need them, was a reprogrammed call for help to Sharon's and Steve's phone with the address of the hotel, he had his wings and his tech, Sarah had a gun. 

Barnes had who knows what.

Or maybe nothing, his head offered in that quiet optimistic voice that had turned from Steve into Sarah in the last hours. Maybe Barnes had nothing in back-up or last resort strategies because the guy actually just wanted to talk.

“I'm guessing you want to take two rooms.” Sarah rattled him from his thoughts and Sam deadpanned at her, there was no way in hell he was going to let his little sister into one room with the freaking Winter Soldier before being absolutely 200% sure he was not going to put a bullet through their skulls. “Thought so.” Sarah smiled and goddamn she was way too cheery for this. “Come on, big brother, if you don't ease up, he'll definitely won't be calm either.”

“I am calm.” He gritted out between his teeth and Sarah raised an eyebrow, Sam huffed and then took two deep breaths to relax his limbs again, “Let's just get two rooms side by side if that's possible, ground floor. I'm not jumping from any third floor balconies to get away from him if necessary.” He rambled as they got from the car, leaving their bags behind for now.  
“You can fly.” Sarah snarked at him and he stuck out his tongue, “You can actually fly with those super amazing wings of yours and you don't want to use that as an advantage? I mean, shouldn't we go as high up as possible so that he won't jump? Why give him the advantage?” Sarah wanted to know and Sam looked at the rooms building again, quickly counted the floor and then calculated the height of it.

“Not high enough.” He concluded and Sarah did a double-take at him, glancing up at the roof of the building they were walking past now to get to the reception, “Supersoldier, remember? Ste...Steve jumped off higher and didn't even wince.”  
“Rogers jumps off everything and everyone if it means getting quicker to his destination. He thinks stubbornness alone will protect him from injuries.” Sarah grumbled and Sam wondered whose grudge against Steve and his words would hold on longer.

“Well, Barnes actually has the experience, the know-how and possibly the training to know what he is capable of. And he's got a metal arm to brace himself against the ground.” Sam pointed out and Sarah hummed, she pushed the entrance door open and then smiled.  
“It's so cool, right? The arm? Makes you wonder about that level of engineering behind it.” She mused and Sam rolled his eyes heaven's way.

“You sound like Rhodey.” He grumbled and rang the little bell at the empty reception desk, Sarah boxed his arm and glared.  
“And what if? We both can appreciate good engineering if we want, whether or not you two are disagreeing over political decisions.” Sarah pointed out to him in that quiet voice that told Sam he could potentially get in danger.

“You've been texting him?” He asked and glanced over to his sister as they waited for someone to show up, Sarah nodded.  
“He is worried about you, concerned that Rogers might be pulling you into something that might get you hurt.” Sarah explained and Sam snorted, leaning forward on the reception desk.  
“I hate it when he's right.” Sam breathed out and brought up a hand to rub over his left temple, stupid headache was back again, Sarah reached out and stroked down his back a few times, “You didn't tell him about what happened in London, did you?”

“No, that's not something he needs to know, certainly not from me.” Sarah smiled at him and Sam sighed once more, his sister and Rhodey were friends, very good friends, friends who used to date in the past.   
“If something goes wrong, you run and call him.” He said after a moment's pause and Sarah huffed, really loud and annoyed, “No, I am serious, I know you can take care of yourself, sis, that's really not it, but this is really not something you learn to deal with in the army. Special division or not.”

“Oh, and you are an expert after one year of avenging?” Sarah hit back and Sam didn't rise to the occasion, instead rolled his head to the side and looked at her, he was still so tired.  
“I never said I was, hence my wish for you to at least keep in mind that Rhodey is in Vienna and can be here in record time. I need to know that you are save, Sarah.” He pleaded and she pulled out her phone, held it up for him to see, “Thank you.”

And then someone finally emerged from the backroom to greet them.

\--

Sarah sighed as she closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, she was still hundred percent behind the decision of having gone with her brother. Sam was her big brother, her strong but also incredibly stubborn brother, always aware of his limits, always ready to jump over them, go on until his body put a stop to it. 

He was tired, everything eating at his heart, taking piece by piece away from him, and he really needed to get out, take a vacation, find time to get some strength back, but people kept on piling up on him. She was disappointed, not even angry really, but disappointed in Rogers and Stark, because both of them should have known better instead of dragging their best friends, two people she deeply cared about, into this mess and into positions that hurt both of them.

And now they had this crap.

And she was caught in the freaking middle. 

Rhodey was worried, wanted to talk to Sam because he hated it when he left an argument or an disagreement unsolved. The wars, the tours they had been on, it had taught them so painfully that you couldn't leave your friends with bad words, it could have been the last time you saw each other, the last time you talked to them. But Sam wouldn't talk to him, not now, not with this blow from Steve's and his fight still weighing him down so much, Rhodey would catch onto that within a second.

Even over the phone.

And now Barnes.

Keeping stuff from friends again, that had already worked out so well last year.

She still got nightmares over that bloody phone call Rhodey had made to her before he had flown out to fight a killer robot army led by a psychotic AI created via Tony Stark's idea to protect the world. She should have taken her boys and taken them after that Sokovia fiasco, should have bought a cottage somewhere far off from any superhero business, and they would have been happy, healthy and uninjured.

And not so damn tired all the freaking time. 

Huffing, Sarah walked over to the bed by the window, right next door, Sam was probably pacing now, trying to work up some energy to face whatever was coming for them. Sarah couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension, even if she kept the second one from her brother, Sam already had enough to deal with. Gun at her hip, since they left Brussels. She was curious about this man, no kidding, two years nothing and suddenly he supposedly had blown up a meeting of the UN about the Accords.

How inconspicuous.

What a truly inconspicuous timing.

Her phone ringing had her push those thoughts away though, especially when she caught sight of the caller ID. “Hi.” She sighed and let herself fall back into the pillows, coughing when dust rose up, second impression of the hotel was not as good as the first.  
“Hey, how is my favorite girl doing?” Rhodey asked, less cheery than yesterday and Sarah would give Tony the speech of his life the next time she saw him, drag Rogers into the room as well, kill two birds with one stone.

“Worried about my favorite boys.” She chose honesty, she had to keep silent about Barnes but that didn't mean she had to keep silent about her worries, “He is pushing himself. You are pushing yourself. And no one is listening to me.” Rhodey sighed, a really weary one, “What's going on?”  
“Was presented with the choice between Stark vs Rogers and joining the hunt for the Winter Soldier.” Rhodey told her and Sarah flinched, pinching her eyes shut, angry that once more these people used him like just another pawn. He was more than that, he belonged up there with them, higher up even, let him make decisions, let him make plans, not use him like some kind of soldier to command around.  
“What did you choose?” She asked and waited with baited breaths, please don't say Barnes, please don't say Barnes, please don't say...

“Barnes.” 

God fucking dammit.

Why did it always have to get more complicated?

“Can I ask why?” Sarah wanted to know and dragged a hand down her face, she hated in what kind of positions this put them. If anyone could just talk, just for once sit down and talk. Maybe even yell for a bit, get rid of some energy before opening up, and then talk about their issues like grown up people.

“Gets me away from Tony and Steve, good enough reason?” Rhodey grumbled and she could picture him frowning, tired lines around his eyes, mouth drawn tight, a look she had grown used to seeing on his face, but one she hated so much. Beautiful smile, warm twinkling eyes, sweet dimples, that was her Rhodey. “I really don't know what to do with them anymore, Sarah, going on my last nerves. Both of them. Fighting like toddlers, disagreeing is one thing, being stubborn and throwing everything into drama is another.” Rhodey went on and she could so easily hear his frustration.

“So, Tony stopped Steve going after Barnes?” She wanted to hear his voice, wanted to help but also fish for some more information about Steve, because she still wanted to punch him in the face. And Tony now, too.  
“You could say that, arrived here almost at the same time as Steve, crossed paths. And well...you can imagine how that went, hidden away in some empty conference room now at the American embassy.” Rhodey explained, in the background there were some voices for a moment, “And if it goes after my taste, then they'll be in there for a long time.”

“Rhodey? Are you keeping something from me?” She pushed when something in his voice didn't suit her at all, Rhodey sighed, he sounded so weary.  
“General Ross is...calling for drastic measures to get all Avengers to sign the Accords. He has...gone a little erratic in the last days, even before the bombings.” And that she didn't like at all, “He thinks that retirement might not be enough to convince Steve and 'his people'” his emphasis made it clear whom he meant, “to behave.”

“He wants Steve and Sam under control.” Sarah concluded, grimacing at the ugly hotel room ceiling, oh this was just getting better and better.  
“Steve, Sam, Barton. Probably stick Wanda in a lab and let his scientists run some tests on her...Just...don't tell Sam. Tony and I, we have...we are handling things, just make sure he is okay and keeps out of trouble for now.” Rhodey told her quietly and Sarah had to bite down on her lips to keep the hysterical laughter from bubbling out.

Keep out of trouble.

Well, kinda shot that one in the ass.

“I'll do my best.” She promised anyway, and it still was the truth, big brother or not, she always had Sam's back, would always look out for him, just like he did for her, “But you know him.”  
“I know both of you.” Rhodey chuckled and it sounded like heaps of rocks were falling off of his shoulders with the sound, “And I know that it's 60% more likely for one of you to get in trouble when you two are together than when you're not.” She snorted at that and he laughed.

“Rhodey...what if Barnes is innocent?” Sarah let herself ask after a small pause, it wouldn't look suspicious, she had always believed in the good in people, had always wanted the best for everyone, for everyone to be treated fair and just. Bad people did bad things, but so did the supposed good ones, there could not be one side and another.

The world wasn't black and white. People made mistakes, and some people did bad things on purpose, but they all had to stand up for what they had done, get the judgment or punishment they deserved. If they did it. 

Rhodey was quiet for a moment, she knew how he stood on the Winter Soldier front, that his opinion wasn't so different from Sam's, just less personally influenced. “If we find him and it turns out he is innocent, then we will see if he can help us find the true murderer. Sarah, you know how I am standing with what Hydra did to this man. And before any questions can be asked, we have to find him first anyway and if Sam's frustration of the last two years is anything to go by for me, then that's gonna be really difficult.” He summed up and they both shared a grim second of grumbling. “And we probably have to hope that Wakanda's prince doesn't get to him first.”

“Prince?”

“Vanished, after talking to Romanov. Should be surprised, am not really surprised. She's on Stark vs Rogers duty now, her punishment.” He pointed out and Sarah hummed, “T'Challa has gone after Barnes, it could turn all really ugly. Listen, I need to go, I'll call you later. Take care, sweetheart.”  
“Be careful, Rhodey.” She said goodbye as well and then dropped her phone onto the bed, grabbing a pillow, she pressed it over her face and screamed.

\--

Turning the engine off, Bucky didn't move, kept his hands on the steering wheel and stared at the old building across the parking lot. It felt like more lifetimes ago than it really was since he had last been here, traveling from London to Berlin via complicated tracks to make sure no one would follow him. Back then he still been reeling from the panic attacks and the headaches that London had caused him, this place had not meant anything to him, has just seemed weirdly familiar.

Back then weirdly familiar had usually meant, he would rather not remember. 

It wasn't until Berlin and a really bad night that his mind offered him the memories and mental images of comfortable downtime spend in a small SSR camp in Belgium, not too far from the front lines, their mainland HQ. Watching Steve stutter his way around Carter, chasing Morita out of his chamber and cursing Dugan for stealing his cigarettes again. Playing cards with Dernier and stealing away for a run with Gabe when they both couldn't stand the walls closing in on them anymore. Making plans with Steve and Monty, going down to the labs to...work on tech with Howard.

It had been war, it had been downtime in between missions against Hydra, but it had also been a good time, maybe even the second best time of his life so far. Friends, family, and deciding between enemy and ally had been easy.

Today, even the people who didn't point a gun at your head did not necessarily turn out to be one of the good guys. And everyone wanted the fucking Winter Soldier anyway.

“This place is history, Ana. Once upon time, this place meant very much to your Papa.” Bucky began quietly, “I really hope this will...be a changing point again, that I can stop being afraid from here on on.” It was strange still, he could still see the images of two different times. A cosy little hotel with two buildings and an almost empty parking lot. A busy set of barracks, soldiers and agents rushing around, Carter the only one who walked calmly, Steve stumbling over his too long legs, Gabe and Jacques sitting on the trunk of the old truck, laughing over something and waving Morita over. 

“One day, when you're older, I'm gonna tell you all about that time.” He said and looked over his shoulder to Ana who watched him curiously, “Explain to you where I came from, the good and the bad.” He smiled tiredly, but Ana still beamed right back. “For now, let's think about the next few days. There is someone waiting for us, princess, someone who I hope could help you. He'll have a lot of questions, but I want to try to explain.” Turning back up front, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, nervousness let his right hand shake.

Blowing out a loud breath, he got out of the car and walked to the trunk, he got out the stroller and built up again with a lot of kicking and cursing. He grabbed his backpack and the diaper bag from the passenger seat and swung both of it over his shoulders, and then he bend down and picked up Ana who squished her doll between their chests when she went to hug him. Bucky closed his eyes again and leaned his face against hers.

“Thanks, little angel. Papa really needed that.” He whispered to her in Romanian and kissed her head, chuckling when Ana got him back with a wet smack against his cheek. He cuddled her for a moment longer and then set her into the stroller, handing dolly and cookies to her before locking the car, “Let's go then. You're gonna like him.” Bucky said with a small smile, “He has wings, Ana, he can fly like a bird.” 

“Birdie.”

Snickering quietly, he turned the stroller towards the reception building, he would either ask for Wilson's room number or get one himself, leave a message behind at the reception desk.

\--

Sam had stopped pacing a while ago, he calm again in a very strange way, like that moment of utter stillness before the storm crashed over a town. But he was also oddly calm on the inside, maybe it would be worth it to stay optimistic for once, take a page out of Sarah's book.

Why would this be a set-up? Why single him out like that? Barnes was a sniper, even before they had turned his head inside out, why lure him somewhere private if he could have just killed him wherever, without even being seen. And why involve an innocent man? Why go to so much trouble to have someone swear that there was evidence proving Barnes had an alibi for Vienna? 

Just why?

Sam had questions, dozens of them, and if Barnes really wanted to talk, then he was better prepared to answer all of them. His phone buzzed and he looked down at where he was still clutching it in his hand, it was a message from Sarah.

'Rhodey called.'

Sam sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, tried to reason with himself that there was no way in hell that Rhodey could in any way know what was going on. They had become such good friends, could read each others' moods so well, the more it had hurt when they had suddenly disagreed so heavily on the Accords, but maybe Sam should have seen that coming, too, their views on their military careers had always been different, too.

They needed to talk. Rhodey and him, he knew that now, needed to sit down and talk and not just snap at each other.

Everyone had been too much on edge, it could have been anything that tipped them over in the end, the shittier that it had turned so public with the Accords. They never talked, that had been their real weakness, their biggest flaw, everything had always been pushed under the carpet, locked in the closet.

That needed to change.

If there ever was a chance to find redemption.

'What did he say?' He typed out to his sister, not feeling up for the usual ribbing and teasing he would add, Rhodey and her, her and Rhodey. He could go on forever, they had been on and off so long and changing so quickly sometimes that Sam had honestly given up on putting a status color on their relationship after a while, but they had always remained friends and always been happy. That had been years ago now, and they were still thick as thieves, especially when it came to worrying about him, because for whatever reason he was considered the reckless one.

'Rogers is with Stark and Romanov. Rhodey is joining the hunt for Barnes.'

Oh great.

More secrets.

He grimaced at the text message from his sister and then shoved his phone deep into his pockets again, they were already knee deep in trouble, it could not possible get any more complicated. Outside a car could be heard, stopping on the parking lot and Sam took a deep breath and then sat down on the edge of the bed.

Moment of truth had come.

Let's see then what Barnes had to say.

\--

He took a deep breath and then knocked.

\--

He took a deep breath and then got up to answer the door.

\--

The door of the hotel room opened and Wilson appeared, arms casually at his side, no sign of a weapon on him, not at first sight anyway, but Bucky knew the guy was good, but for now he remained relaxed and inclined his head a little, “Wilson.”

Wilson glowered at him for the length of an eye blink, he looked tired as if he hadn't slept well in the last days and Bucky wondered if it was related to Crossbones' death and the following catastrophic events in Lagos. Bucky knew from the media that the Avengers had caught a lot of backslash for it, especially that young witch, and the death of innocents...as much as he had gotten an impression of Sam Wilson, it would weigh heavy on him.

After a deep sigh, Wilson inclined his head as well, “Barnes.” He said and then it was silence again, peaceful standoff, no one really knowing what the next move should be. They stared at each other, silently checking the other one's mood and body language, but before Bucky could even fret over how he might appear to look like, someone else decided to pipe up as well.

“Ana!”

Trust her to break the ice.

Wilson's eyes widened and without any further hesitance, he leaned past Bucky to stare at the chubby girl grinning at him like sunshine and rainbows from the stroller. Ana was beaming, best behavior possible, held up a cookie and looked at Wilson with her round eyes, “Cookie?” She asked and though Wilson wouldn't understand the Romanian word, the intention was still clear and he gaped.

And with a sound like bones grinding against each other, he suddenly had Bucky backed up against the wall right next to the hotel room door, face turned into an angry scowl. Bucky was surprised when none of his flight instincts started screaming in his head, instead he kept himself as still as possible and looked right back into Wilson's brown eyes.  
“You stole a baby for your cover?! Have you gone mental?” Wilson snarled and Bucky briefly closed his eyes, he knew there had been a possibility that might have been the first impression, “What in the world possessed you to...”

“She's my daughter.” Bucky cut through his words before Wilson could really start and Wilson shut up with a click of his teeth, back to staring at him even if his eyes were still firing daggers at him, but thankfully Ana decided to jump in, too.  
“Papa?” She called out and Bucky and Wilson both looked towards her, Bucky didn't know if he was supposed to be impressed or afraid by the fact that Ana didn't even look scared or shocked. Sweet little blue eyes were looking from one face to another, cookie still held in her hand, “Papa, okay?”

“Papa is okay, princess.” He nevertheless soothed her in Romanian and then looked back at Wilson who still didn't take his eyes off of his baby girl, just like Ana kept on smiling at Wilson, “Look at her, Wilson. I'm not lying. I would never kidnap a child to use as some kind of cover, I'm not a monster, Wilson. She is my daughter, look at her eyes, her face and tell me I'm lying.” Bucky argued and then waited, taking deep breaths.

After two minutes of endless observing, Wilson took a step back and lowered his hands from where they had previously kept Bucky pushed against the wall.  
“Get inside, and you better be prepared to talk because I have a hell of a lot of questions.” Wilson told him, scowl melting away a little.  
“I'm here to talk.” Bucky promised and then grabbed the stroller handles, pushing it into the hotel room and turning his back on Wilson. He stopped next to the one of the beds and unstrapped Ana from the stroller, letting her grab her doll and the cookies before picking her up.

Wilson closed the room door and then walked over to one of the chairs, sitting down with his arms crossed over his chest, while Bucky seated himself on the edge of the right bed, placing Ana on his lap. She ignored them now, too busy looking around the room in curiosity to find them interesting in any way, she did hold out her little box of cookies to Wilson though. He blinked at her, and Bucky hid a smile in Ana's hair when he slowly leaned forward to take one, the room was small, it seemed like everything was within arms' reach. 

“She doesn't offer them to just anyone.” Bucky said quietly and Wilson gave him a little glare but then smiled at Ana who pulled back her box and grabbed another cookie for herself, she grinned at him.   
“Start with her, the rest of my questions can wait a moment.” Wilson demanded and shoved the cookie in his mouth, Ana giggled, Bucky took a breath and then began. 

\--

Sam felt like screaming, everything that he had managed to pull together again inside his head and his heart to face this meeting with Barnes was ripped apart again and he was back to free-falling. His head was pounding and his heart was racing and he didn't even remember writing the quick text message to his sister to call Sarah over, he really needed her at his side right now.

There was a kid in the picture now. 

An innocent little kid.

A baby.

And Barnes was innocent.

Sam's life had been easy. Once, what felt like a lifetime ago now. So easy, and simple really? Not boring, or unexciting, just easy. 

“So...this is...wow.” Sarah out into words what Sam couldn't stop hearing repeated in his head, with his face dropped into his hands. Barnes was still sitting on the edge of the right bed while Sarah had flung herself over the left one, way more relaxed than either man. The kid, Ana, had wriggled off of Barnes' lap at some point in his story, and had first crawled around the room and then plopped herself on the ground, somewhere in the middle between her father and Sam.

Sam kept on switching between covering his face with his hands and watching Ana play with her doll, shooting glances up at him now and then, and always with that bright smile. 

This was a disaster. A really really bad disaster.

And thank all the gods in heaven that Steve wasn't here.

“What are your questions?” Barnes asked to break the silence that hung over the room again, Sam snorted and leaned back in his hair, rolling his head against the wall and closing his eyes. A nightmare, this was a complete nightmare and just this second he was gonna wake up in his bed because Rhodey was knocking on the door and yelling at him to get moving for their run, Lagos wouldn't have happened, there would be no Accords, no fight with Steve and no freaking former Winter Soldier sitting on the bed in his hotel room with a daughter and half the world's police forces searching for him.

Sam reopened his eyes and looked right into Ana Barnes' sweet gentle face, she had crawled closer, was now sitting right at his feet, doll and cookies left behind. A small finger poked his leg and Sam chuckled. Goddammit.

“How did you get my number? Let's start with that.” He wanted to know and looked over to Barnes, he looked relaxed, as relaxed as he could probably let himself be in the presence of what was essentially two strangers. Sam didn't know what he had happened, but he knew that it had not been a man who seemed to have his life under control.

He wondered when he had last felt like that.

“Steve's phone.” Barnes answered with a look in his eyes that told Sam he knew exactly what the following reaction of his would be.  
“I beg your pardon? Steve's...How did you manage that?” His head was turning in so many circles that he didn't even think when there was a tug on his pants, reaching down he picked the squealing baby girl up into his arms and set her on his lap.

“After...after...I pulled Steve from the Potomac.” Well that answered that question then, didn't it, Sam thought, giving over one hand to curious fingers, Barnes went on, smiling dumbly for some reason, “After that it was rough...really rough for a few days. Very much coming back at once, my head was pure chaos, so I kept as low as possible, staid away from everything.” 

Sam was focusing on what Barnes was saying but part of his attention also got caught by the girl sitting on his lap, leaning back against his chest and looking up at him from those unbelievably blue eyes. Like the sky on a warm summer day, and her smile was the sunshine. Bright hot sunshine, like a balm on his skin. 

“Steve's face was all over the news those days.” Barnes continued, his eyes switching between Sarah and Sam, and wasn't it funny in a really fucked up way that it was Sam now who was stumbling over Steve's name, “I went to the Smithsonian, on a gut decision, not really knowing what I was looking for. Was a bad choice, so many people, pictures everywhere, spent the whole day afterward locked in the basement, trying to get my breathing back under control. I...I didn't feel the pain...not then, it was still hidden under whatever drug cocktail Hydra had me under.”

Sam hated Hydra.

A small hand touched his chin and let the bad thoughts bleed away again, Ana pushed herself up until she was kneeling on his thighs, one hand going to his shoulder, the other one tugging his chin a little down. And then she was looking at him, smiling at him, and it was a soothing touch to his aching headache.

“When I could walk again, the news was reporting that Steve got discharged. I tracked you both down at your place in DC, by then I had made the decision to leave, that I needed to get away and get myself back together before I could even think about approaching Steve.” Even drugged out of his mind and not even knowing who he really was, Barnes had shown more brain than Steve in the two years following the disaster in DC, Sam mused in his head and shared a look with Sarah, Barnes sighed, “It was way too easy to take his phone.” He grumbled and Sam couldn't hold back the snort, it amused Ana greatly and she giggled and patted his cheek.

It was definitely stronger than a baby her age should be capable off.

Barnes had not been kidding about the super baby part.

“You went to work, Steve was still high as a kite from whatever elephant painkillers they had him on. It wasn't difficult to sneak into the house and snatch his phone.” Bucky explained and then made a pause, looking over to Sam. And despite being distracted by what had to be the most precious baby girl ever, Sam still managed a scowl in his direction.  
“You were in my house?” He wanted to know and Barnes grimaced, he looked down at his hands.

“I was, for about five minutes. I wrote out three numbers and then I left again, took a cab to the airport and left the States.” Bucky went on and Sam's attention was drawn away from him again, tiny hands pulling on his shirt.  
“You are a demanding little lady, aren't you?” He asked quietly, but then gave in and leaned down so gentle fingers could curiously touch his nose and eyebrows, tiny rosy lips smacked against each other as Ana giggled and then she was right back to that smile that could bring you to your knees.

Sam loved babies.

“Whose numbers did you take? You said three just now, mine is one, who are the other two?” He directed at Barnes and grinned for Ana.  
“Yours. Steve...And Stark.” Barnes answered and the baby was momentarily forgotten as Sam whipped his head around to stare at Barnes, Sarah, still holding herself in the background, was gaping, too.

“Stark?” Sarah wanted to know, her opinion about Stark was something that Sam had bouncing around in his head whenever he saw the older man. And his sister had had her share of interactions with the eccentric idiot when she had been dating Rhodey. Barnes grimaced, reaching up with his metal hand to drag it through his hair.  
“It was something familiar...I have reasons now to not use his number, I never gave it to Nicu.” Barnes said, voice dropping lower, quieter, and one hand twisted around the end of his right sleeve, “It was the ultimate last resort.” 

Sam didn't really want to know what that had to mean at the moment, so he filed it away for later, there was enough other stuff to talk about.  
“Why...” but before he could really get the question out, Ana had stretched up her hand and touched his hair, that tiny mouth falling into a perfect little 'o' of awe and Sam was gone. He tapped that little button nose with a careful finger and smiled when Ana scrunched up her face and went cross-eyed for a moment trying to follow his finger.

“God, how can something this adorable come from such a grouchy father like Barnes?” He wondered out loud and smirked, across the room Sarah gasped.  
“Samuel!” She admonished him in a perfect improvisation of their mother and Sam glanced over to Barnes who was smiling, looking at his daughter.  
“Asking myself that every single minute of every single day.” He echoed the words in a way and Sam threw a satisfied look over to his sister who glared right back at him.

Ana giggled again and plopped herself back down on his thighs, leaning forward and hiding her face against his chest before quickly pulling back again, she repeated the process and Sam got it. Waiting for the next time she was looking at him, he widened his eyes and called a quick “boo”, Ana shrieked in delight and pinched her small eyes shut in her loud laughter.

“Oh, I could eat you up.” He chuckled and hugged her, something in his chest warming to incredibly softness when those tiny but strong arms hugged him back as well as she could. And then he swung her up into the air, letting her hang from his hands over his head, little shoe covered feet kicking in the air. She was laughing so angelic, and the sound alone could have made him happy for another century, those blue eyes twinkling in joy. “I could eat you up all day long. You are the sweetest little girl, aren't you?”

And Barnes was watching him with a look on his face that Sam couldn't get himself to read.

Not yet.

“Excuse my brother.” Sarah took over, Sam could distantly hear the eye roll in her voice, “He has always had a weakness when it comes to babies, takes his attention span right down to three seconds.” Sam stuck his tongue out at her, but all focus went right out of the window again when Ana saw and laughed so hard that he almost dropped her. 

\--

“Alright, now that I know how, the next question is why.” Wilson said, bringing Ana down again, Bucky felt something utterly warm and pleasant run down his neck and back, like that warm fuzzy blanket after a day out in the winter snow. Comfort. The feeling, the reassurance that he had made the right decision. 

Maybe they hadn't even began to get towards the important part of why he had come here, but he still already knew that he had done the right thing. Ana certainly thought so as well, he was gobsmacked by the trust she apparently gifted Wilson with, no one had been approached by her like that, no one ever. Never had she shown such complete blind faith and trust into a stranger, one look and she was comfortable enough in wanting to be picked up.

And not even just that, she seemed so calm and so happy, those bright smiles and happy laughter, there wasn't an ounce of nervousness in her, and Bucky envied his little angel so much for it. 

“Why did your friend call me?” Wilson wanted to know and when Ana babbled and made grabby hands he grinned for her.  
“I...” Bucky hesitated and then made a small pause, Wilson looked over to him, caught his eyes, and somehow it gave Bucky the strength to talk, “I know what I have to do. For myself. For Ana, and for the people who think the Winter Soldier killed their loved ones. I did not bomb the UN, and I have proof, I have an alibi. All I need is a chance for someone to listen to me.”

“I'm glad that you think I can help you with that, but...we have a small problem here.” Wilson began, still rocking Ana, “I didn't sign the Accords. I'm not an Avenger anymore.” It hurt him to say those words, Bucky could see it, even beneath all that ice cold shock dropping over him, “Steve...well he didn't sign either, and... Stark and him are not handling it so well...and Steve and me neither. We're not talking, they're yelling at each a lot right now in Vienna.” Wilson went on and Bucky wondered just what the hell had happened with the team. 

“The Avengers are fighting?” He wanted to know and blinked, the Wilson siblings exchanged a look and it was Sarah Wilson who spoke up while her brother avoided to look at anyone. He got to his feet and began to pace in front of the windows, Ana still in his arms, leaned against his chest, one of his hands holding her, the other one cradling the back of her head carefully in one palm. It looked so soothing.

“It's not really fighting, it's more a no-communication problem. A disagreement.” Sarah Wilson described it for him and Bucky couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her, “Yeah, they're...you're a father now, it's like when a toddler throws a temper tantrum in the middle of the town's square and you shouldn't be amused by it because it's actually a really serious problem for your little one, they have an issue but they can't put it into words.” Wilson growled but his sister ignored him, Bucky wasn't sure if smiling or looking serious was the right reaction, “The Avengers...well Stark and Rogers are currently at the height of their temper tantrum, everyone else is just refusing to talk and suffering under it.”

“I'm not refusing, I just don't want to right now, there is a difference.” Wilson grumbled and then stopped, “Huh, she fell asleep.” Bucky quickly looked over to him, saw that little face of his daughter gently squished against Wilson's shirt covered chest, mouth a perfect little 'o', eyes closed and small fingers twisted into Wilson's shirt. Wilson had rocked Ana to sleep without even meaning to. “Can we go on to why you called me now? It can't just be my status as the only Avenger you know, because we both know that Steve...”

“I don't want to see Steve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in the next chapter more talking, more cuteness and some looks


	7. James/Samuel III

“It's not really fighting, it's more a no-communication problem. A disagreement.” Sarah Wilson described it for him and Bucky couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her, “Yeah, they're...you're a father now, it's like when a toddler throws a temper tantrum in the middle of the town's square and you shouldn't be amused by it because it's actually a really serious problem for your little one, they have an issue but they can't put it into words.” Wilson growled but his sister ignored him, Bucky wasn't sure if smiling or looking serious was the right reaction, “The Avengers...well Stark and Rogers are currently at the height of their temper tantrum, everyone else is just refusing to talk and suffering under it.”

“I'm not refusing, I just don't want to right now, there is a difference.” Wilson grumbled and then stopped, “Huh, she fell asleep.” Bucky quickly looked over to him, saw that little face of his daughter gently squished against Wilson's shirt covered chest, mouth a perfect little 'o', eyes closed and small fingers twisted into Wilson's shirt. Wilson had rocked Ana to sleep without even meaning to. “Can we go on to why you called me now? It can't just be my status as the only Avenger you know, because we both know that Steve...”

“I don't want to see Steve.”

\--

Tucking the blanket securely around his daughter's sleeping body in the pushed back stroller, Bucky could feel Wilson's eyes on the back of his head as he probably spent a little too much time fussing over his baby girl after casually dropping such news.

Sarah Wilson on the other hand still looked like she understood exactly what was going on here when he finally turned around again. Turning her phone around in her hands, Wilson's sister was still sitting cross-legged on the bed closer to the door, her eyes flickering between her brother and him.

“I have good reasons for not wanting to see him, at least not now.” Bucky began again when the silence that hung around the room got too choking, Wilson made a quiet sound at the back of his throat that Bucky wasn't even sure he had noticed, brown eyes looking away from him for a moment, looking over Ana sleeping with her usual pout, one arm tightly wrapped around her doll. “She is only one reason of many, even if the biggest one.”

“I'm...not sure I understand.” Wilson said, dragging a hand down his face, he had sat down at the small table again after handing Ana over to him.  
“He is a dramaqueen.” Bucky offered up and Wilson actually laughed, even if it sounded half hysterical and half so goddamn tired, he nevertheless gave a laugh and a snort, Sarah Wilson shook her head with a smile.

“You can say that again.”

“And he brings attention with himself, everywhere he goes. Steve still hasn't understood what subtle means, what acting inconspicuously entails. And he is so predictable still, it almost physically hurts me.” Bucky recalled and sat down on the second bed again, “I don't want to talk to him or see him because he will stop thinking and just do something stupid. Again. His track record in mindless actions concerning me isn't actually the greatest. And I don't need that right now, it's the last thing I really need right now.”

“So what do you want?” Sarah Wilson wanted to know, both of them turned to look at her, “Talking and explaining is all nice and cozy, but I think we got the bigger picture right now. I'm more interested into recent events.” And she turned a razor sharp focus on him with her still gentle eyes, “Vienna. I think I'd like to see that proof of innocence before we go on.” Bucky nodded and pulled the stick out of his jacket pocket when he saw Wilson open his mouth.

“I still have so many questions.” Wilson argued but snapped his mouth shut again when his sister raised her hand towards him, Bucky was finally decided on who was the older one in the family.  
“And you have a good right to get answers for them, Samuel, but I need this one answer right now before I start freaking out.” Sarah Wilson made clear and reached out a hand towards Bucky without looking in his direction at all, Bucky handed over the stick, “Thank you. I'll be next door, grabbing my laptop. And whatever you two do in the meantime, don't wake up the baby.”

Sarah Wilson left with a pointed look at her brother who send a confused one back at her before the door got closed.  
“Little sister?” Bucky threw into the room to not let the loaded silence return, Wilson snorted, grabbing a piece of chocolate from the small bowl on the table before catching sight of whatever was written on it and throwing it back into the bowl with a grimace. Bucky held out the box of cookies to him, Wilson grabbed a cookie with a sigh.

“Five years. What gave it away?” Wilson wanted to know in return and Bucky ducked his head down, smiled at his feet scraping against the ugly carpet.  
“Personal experience, may it feel as old as time itself by now. Some things stick with you. I remembered my sisters when I saw two kids arguing in the market, little scrap of a sister pushing her older brother around and him protesting with words but letting her direct him exactly where she wanted.” He explained and Wilson chuckled.

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

\--

They watch parts of the video surveillance from the garage and car workshop, watch Barnes work, joke around with colleagues, get teased in turn. Barnes taking a break and sitting outside in the back, watching his little daughter babble in her playpen. The owner – Niculai as Barnes told them – watching over her when Barnes goes back to work.

And with the date in the corner they have it.

Solid proof that something very very wrong is at play in Vienna.

Because Bucky Barnes was hundreds of miles away on the day of the bombing.

Sam could easily read it on his sister's face when she copied the files over onto her computer and then pulled the stick out again, pushing it back into Barnes' hand, just what was going on here. He asked it out loud then as well while Sarah shut her laptop down again, needing a moment to think about things. Barnes was silent anyway, watching Ana sleeping peacefully still, face closed off, resigned.

“The question should be what are we going to do now?” Sarah answered and Sam looked at her again, eyebrows raised, “Do you seriously expect me to do nothing now? We all know what will happen when they...when Ross gets his fingers on Barnes, but I don't want to imagine what that man will do if he finds out the Super Soldier serum gets inherited by Super Soldier babies.” Sarah pointed out in a hissed voice.

“That's why I called.” Barnes spoke up, quietly, not meeting any of their eyes as Sam and Sarah turned to look at him, “I don't need help for myself. I know what I have to do and all I need is one person giving me even two minutes of a chance to talk to give someone the stick. I know I'm innocent in this, and I want to prove it. But not if it risks my daughter's safety.”

“You want me to protect Ana?” Sam asked out loud, eyes drifting down to the baby smiling even when she was sleeping.  
“I want to ask you if you can protect her.” Barnes corrected his words, careful fingers stroking through his daughter's hair, “I know that it's a lot to ask for, especially after what I have done to you. After what Steve put you through because of finding me.”

\--

The thing was....ah screw it, Samuel Wilson was a sucker for babies and kids, no backbone when it came to round bright eyes and gummy smiles. There was no rational explanation for the need that burned hot in his stomach whenever he even dared to think about the possibility that Ross, that any government or agency might get their hands on an innocent little baby girl.

Just because of the blood running through her veins.

Who wouldn't see a beautiful kid with an amazing smile and wonderful eyes.

Who would only see potential, blood and DNA.

The thing also was though that Sam wasn't the Wilson sibling with a kid of their own, and while he was still thinking hard, was still busy running over the question, running over how tired he still was, how angry at Steve as well, Sarah had walked around him and knelt down on the other side of Ana's stroller.

“We'll protect her if you do the right thing.” She began and Barnes snapped his head up to stare at her just like Sam did.  
“I am going to do the right thing in giving myself up. I am not going to hide anymore or risk more people getting hurt and killed because someone out there thinks they can use me. The Vienna bombing wasn't me, but it doesn't mean I don't feel guilty for it. The Winter Soldier is still killing people without me pulling a trigger or waving a knife, and if it has to be me to stop it, so be it.” Barnes told his sister and Sam found himself biting his lips to keep himself from sighing.

God, fucking dammit, the man made it difficult to remain pissed at him for a ruined car.

Even if Sam wasn't over that in a long shot still.

That had been a nice car.

“Can I talk to you for a moment, sis?”

\--

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Me?” Sarah asked with both eyebrows being raised, “I'm here because of you.” She pointed out to him, sitting down on the edge of the bed in the room she had taken previously.  
“You didn't give me a chance to say no!” Sam recalled her stubborn reaction some hours earlier, “My car, so I am going! Those were your words! Why do you suddenly want to get involved, Sarah?” Sam wanted to know, pacing from the windows over to the door of the little bathroom.

“I'm a mother, Sam. I'll gladly stay far out of your superhero business, hell, if I could I would grab Jimmy and you, speak my mind and make sure you'll stay far away from these guys forever. Especially Rogers and Stark. But I can't, because that means taking something away from your lives that for whatever crazy reason you both are very much committed to.” Sarah began, eyes slightly narrowing and Sam stopped, brought a hand up to sheepishly rub the back of his neck. “I'm not getting involved, Samuel. All this Accords business, all this Winter Soldier stuff, I'll gladly stay out of that one. Avengers business is not my business, and it's never going to be mine. But keeping this little girl safe, I'm going to make that my business.”

“It could be dangerous.” Sam pointed out, he knew better than to openly protest, his sister was stubborn, but also always thought things through before making up her mind. If she was decided on something, he had never been able to talk her out of it.

And, as he reminded himself then, Sarah had known about this exhausting superheroes world even longer than he had. After all, Sarah had met Rhodey, fallen in love and out of love – repeatedly – with Rhodey years and years before Sam had met Steve Rogers one early DC morning.  
“My job is dangerous, Sam. Taking a baby to New York to Mom's by calling in some favors is not. Explaining things to Mom might, but what isn't she used to from us by now. She'll heave that deep sigh again, give us that look and then coo at the baby.” Sarah chuckled and reached for her phone when it buzzed.

Sam grimaced and bit his lips for a moment, about that us...

“I'm going to stay with him.”

“You want to what?” Sarah hissed at him, dropping her phone before dragging both hands through her hair and over her face, “Why do you suddenly want to get involved in this again?”  
“Listen.” Sam tried to calm her down, reaching out to grab his sister's hands, rubbing thumbs over the back of them, “I hate this just as much as you do, all of it. The secret keeping, the lying, but something really foul is at play here. And I can't just turn my back on an innocent man being hunted for a crime he didn't commit. Do I trust Barnes? No.” Sam made clear and he knew the Super-Soldier next door was able to hear it, maybe he even wanted him to.

“I trust him about as far as I can throw him. Which, ultimately, is not that far.” Sam pointed out to Sarah, letting go of her hands to indicate a kind of distance that had his sister roll her eyes, “But these people out there? Ross and his whole army of assholes? Boot-licking lackeys who are just as corrupt as him? They are only interested in their politics, in their own affairs, they won't see Barnes giving himself up for a chance to talk and explain. All they will see is an easy target to paint the picture of good American law enforcement saving the day. This little girl's father is innocent, sis, and if I can help her keep that father instead of losing him to a lifetime of prison, then I am going to help.”

“Ross wants you under control.” Sarah argued and Sam could see the fear in her, she had never been scared of him going out with the wings, not back in the day and not now as an Avenger. Not when she knew that he had people to watch his back, Riley, Rhodey, even Steve...even Stark, she had trusted those people to have his back, still did within reason. But politics, Sarah had never trusted politics, would never trust people with agendas.

And most certainly not Ross, General or Secretary, the man had been on Rhodey's back since before the Avengers had even been a thing. And Sarah neither trusted a man who didn't trust one of her closest friends, nor did she harbor any remaining well meant feelings for them. 

“I know.” He told her and grabbed her hands again, he was aware in what waters he was playing here, “And I will be careful, I know what that man wants, I know men like him. I know he will rip into Barnes, will take him apart and probably try and get him under his control, make him do his bidding.” And he couldn't keep the shudder hidden that time, as much as he was pissed still over what Barnes had done to him, to Steve, he hadn't had control over his decisions. It hadn't been him who had made the call, he had simply been an attack dog only focused on the mission.

And Sam didn't want to even think about for a second what Ross could do if only the Winter Soldier resurfaced under his control.

It made him sick.

Pierce, Ross...People who wanted to control the world never ended up being the good guy.

“I trust Ross even less than I trust Barnes.” Sam told Sarah, squeezing her hands gently, “But there are people I still trust out there. No matter how difficult things may be right now, I trust Rhodey. I trust Steve and hell I even trust Stark to have my back when it comes down to it. When it comes down to being faced with Ross. Disagreeing over the Accords or not, Sarah, none of us will see the other one get hurt.” He promised her, and maybe a small part of himself was promising it to himself as well.

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” Sam wanted to know and watched as Sarah pushed away from him and wrung her hands around each other, taking a few steps.  
“Okay.” She repeated and stopped, looking at him with that look in her eyes that made Sam question so often who really was the older one in this family, “I will take Ana to New York alone, but you have to promise me something.”

“Anything.” He shot out immediately, Sarah walked closer again, framed his face in both her warm hands, tracing thumbs over his cheekbones before she spoke quietly.  
“You have to promise me that no matter what happens, you'll think of yourself as well. There are people who care about you, Sam, people who don't want to see you hurt again. People who want to see you come home.” And it was the last sentence that really struck a cord with him, and he let his eyes fall shut for a brief moment, “People who love you.”

“I know, Sarah, I know. I'll come home.” He swore to her, to her and himself, to his mother and the little nephew with those bright eyes, and leaned over to kiss her forehead. 

“Alright...alright.” Sarah took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders, “Then let's get a baby girl to safety.” She said and already turned towards the door, but Sam reached out quickly and grabbed her wrist, pulled her close and into his arms.  
“I love you, sis.” He whispered and Sarah wrapped both arms around his neck, “And when this is over, I'll take Mum, Tommy and you down to Nana. Just us, just family.” 

\--

“If anything looks weird, smells strange or your paranoia senses are tingling, call Rhodey. Please!” Sam pleaded with Sarah two hours later as they stood facing each other between her car and the rental one of Barnes, having driven to an abandoned factory building halfway between the hotel and the next bigger city.

“Sam...”

“Please, please promise me you will. Sarah, there are too many people out there right now who will want to stick this perfect little girl into a lab to poke around. And they will not simply let you get away with just a bruise.” He reminded her gently and Sarah reached up to cup his face with one hand, “Please just promise me that if you need help or just feel something might be going wrong, you'll reach out to someone. You know that Rhodey will move the earth for you if he has to.”

“I promise you.” Sarah smiled at him and then leaned in for another hug, “It's gonna be fine, Sam. The only tough thing I will encounter is Ma seeing me turn up with a baby on her doorstep two months before I was scheduled to come home.” And damn, Sam wanted to have part of her positivity, he just felt so tired still.

He needed that break.

He did.

“And you please promise me to be careful.” Sarah turned it around on him, “Ross is dangerous, Samuel. And Stark and Rogers have worked themselves up into an argument where you really don't need to get involved in, let them figure out their pissing contest on their own. Stay true to what you believe in. And please, if you feel like something is wrong, please remember that you can call Jimmy, too, and he'll come.”

He nodded at her, because he knew, and he had a plan.

\--

On the other side of the courtyard, Bucky was kneeling at the side of Sarah Wilson's car, his hands stroking over Ana's feet and over her smiling face.

“I'm gonna come back to you. I promise you, Ana.” He told her in Romanian, smiling despite wanting to cry, despite feeling like something vital was just breaking inside of his chest. “We're gonna be back together again, but Papa has to go for a while. Papa has to do the right thing and take care of something first though, but I'll come back to you. I'll come back to you and we'll be together, we'll be happy and safe.”

He blinked as the pressure behind his eyes doubled as Ana made grabby hands and he leaned up, letting her kiss his nose, kissing her forehead in turn.

“It's gonna be alright, you hear me. Everything is gonna be alright. I'm gonna miss you terribly and I'll think of you every single day while we're apart, but you're gonna be fine. You're going to New York, Ana, that's where Papa is from. Remember? I told you all about New York. The Wilsons are good people, you'll be perfectly fine with them.” He knew she wouldn't understand any of it, but he still needed to say it, needed to assure his little baby girl that he was not abandoning her.

Not like Katya did.

“I'll come for you, when everything is done, when everything is cleared up, then I'll come for you. Papa loves you very much, Ana.” Bucky smiled and hugged her to his chest one last time before he fastened the seat belts around her. “Papa loves you so very much, and I'll come back to you.” And Ana blew him a raspberry before cuddling into her blanket and doll, cookie box in reach.

He stood up with a deep sigh but smiled as he closed the backseat door and only let the pain turn his face down when he turned away from the car, coming face to face with Sarah Wilson.

“I'll keep her safe.” And she offered her hand to him, which Bucky took gladly, happy about the tight grip because it grounded him back out of the pain inside his heart, “Good luck, Barnes.” 

\--

He watched that blue car disappear around the street corner and closed his eyes, tried to get control back over the storm of emotions welling up inside of him. 

Hardest decision of his life.

Watching his baby girl go.

But it was then, tears prickling at his eyes and his chest burning with the need to hold it all back that he felt it for the first time.

Eyes on them.

And from one second to the next, Bucky snapped his eyes open again, tensed from head to toes and brought himself into a defensive position, metal fingers curled into a fist. Next to him, having previously fiddled around with his phone to give him a moment of privacy, Wilson snapped to attention as well, eyes set on him while Bucky let his eyes flicker around the area.

“Barnes?” Wilson called out carefully, slipping his phone back into his pockets and one hand going for the button of the trunk of his sister's car. “Why do you look like we're about to fight an army?”  
“We're being watched.” Bucky said quietly and Wilson went from tensed to alert and ready in an alarming speed, every nerve, vein and bone set to fight. 

“Whyyyy...” He whined nevertheless, “Why can't I have nice things anymore?” And then something incredibly loud thumped to the ground somewhere to their right and they whirled around way more synchronized than it should have been possible. “Tell me that despite looking like a boring uncool father of the year award recipient, you still carry some weapons on you, man. Aside from the obvious.”

“I told you, I don't do that anymore.” Bucky argued, whirling back to the left when another crash sounded from the warehouse on that side, bringing him loosely back to back with Wilson.  
“What? Defending your own ass? Come on, Barnes, don't tell me you're not even carrying a pocket knife.” Wilson bit out between his teeth, his right hand popping the trunk.  
“I have a baby. Do you know how quick and curious they are? Ana has been climbing out of things, into things and around things for months already. She opens stuff that I didn't even could be opened by anyone below the age of seven.” Bucky grumbled and god it hurt like a stab to the chest to talk about, knowing she was not gonna be with him again anytime soon probably. “I had peace in Bucharest, Wilson, I ended that chapter of my...”

But he wasn't able to finish because a black blur took him right off his feet and crashed with him down the staircase next to which they had parked, landing him right in the middle of empty cardboard boxes and taking all breath out of him for one moment.

From above he could hear Wilson curse and then every sound vanished as his eyes found his attacker and he had to roll to the side to dodge claws.

Claws.

What the fuck.

And okay, you are quick, was his next thought as his attacker was on him again within the blink of an eye, alright, instincts, time to kick in again, you got something to lose, don't forget that. He kicked out and then cried out when he was flung threw the air with only a loose grip on his ankle, hitting a rusted lift truck hard.

Holy shit, add strong to quick.

He had to take his brain offline and let muscle memory take over, despite how much he hated it and panicked under it, but there was no other way to dodge those attacks. Quick. Hard. Strong.

So fucking strong.

And then Wilson was there, wings and suited up and all, twisting through the underground space of the warehouse, and Bucky for just a short moment found himself admiring the way Wilson could move in the tight airspace. As if the wings were not tech but real and part of him. But then the attacker in the black suit was back on him and Bucky's face kissed the ground, claws being embedded into the cement ground. 

Holy double shit.

“Barnes, run!” Wilson yelled at him as he swung deep and plugged the attacker off of him again, he or she twisted around mid air and landed on all fours. Like the cat the suit already made them look like. “Get out of here! I got this!”  
“If you think I'm just gonna leave you here, think again!!” Bucky screamed right back at him, ripping off his stupid jacket, left arm whirring as it re-calibrated. Wilson groaned, loud and exasperated.

“I'm not the one who has his alibi on a fucking usb flash drive! You wanna do the right thing and get this right, so do it, Barnes!” Wilson argued, pulling the wings close to his body in the next moment and somersaulting in midair to dodge claws swiping for him. The resulting sound as the claws scraped along the outer shell of the wings made Bucky's bones rattle.  
“Not gonna happen, Wilson! I would never forgive myself if you got hurt because of this!” Bucky growled and cursed when he swung low and was still caught and thrown against the next wall.

“Start pulling a Steve Rogers now and I will kick your ass!” Wilson snarled and landed between him and the attacker in the black suit who didn't even look the slightest out of breath. “Get up on the roof, I need more space.” And with that he shoved Bucky towards the door of the staircase of the abandoned warehouse building and jumped at the mysterious attacker again.

Bucky didn't bother to hide the scream of annoyance over being manhandled like that but as he still made a dash for the staircase, cringing at the now muffled sounds of fighting. Always fighting. It always came back down to fighting and he was so sick of it. He was so utterly tired and sick of it, let it end, just please let it end. 

But of course it didn't. 

The doors down below crashed open and Bucky ran faster, but all the running in the world didn't help you when your follower was quicker. Bucky's headstart advantage of four floors was eradicated so quickly that it was like a panicking realization for him.

Lungs already burning, body at its limit of being pushed any faster, left hand already so busy pulling him up along the railing to get even higher and faster, Bucky still didn't have an ounce of a chance to reach the rooftop door he could already see.

A strong hand wrapped around his left wrist and instinct alone had him twist around, meaning to bring up metal against a vulnerable sternum, desperate dirty tactics, but he was just pure panicking by then. He hadn't fought in so long, he had never wanted to fight again and everything inside of him was so raw from just saying goodbye to one of the few good things in his life.

His fist never reached anything.

The arm didn't obey his movement at all.

He was left to watch in absolute horror, terror and confusion how his arm – HIS arm – became limb and almost controlled by someone else's hand, being pushed down as if it was just a prop. No resistance of Bucky's own strength or mind behind it at all.

He snapped up his head, stared at the mask covering the other person's face, found himself stared back at, and then Bucky went flying backwards onto the ground.

\--

And he or she was suddenly gone again.

\--

From one second to the next, Bucky was left alone in the staircase, picking himself up from the ground and despite the silence around him still didn't give himself a break. Taking the stairs two at a time again, he soon pushed through the doors to get onto the rooftop just as Wilson touched down on it, wings folding together again, but still braced for a fight. Bucky edged closer to him, eyes checking over their surroundings but coming up empty.

“Who the fuck was that?” He wanted to know, leaning over to finally give himself a moment to catch his breath because holy shit, that man...woman....?.... They had been fast, inhumanly fast, faster than him,stronger than him...and the arm... that had been too fucking close.  
“I have no freaking idea.” Wilson told him, fingers busy with that display on his arm and Bucky heard the approaching buzzing of that little bird robot coming closer. 

He would have loved to spend some time admiring the technology but he was too busy trying to keep his lungs staying inside his chest and in working condition, and freaking out over trying to figure out why the arm had basically just given in. God, he hadn't had to run like that in...well truth be told in like ever. No one had ever been that fast, no one the Soldier had ever faced had been this strong, this quick and all of it without a single weapon in their hands.  
“You okay there, Barnes?” Wilson's voice drew him out of his thoughts and Bucky nodded, straightened up again and only grimaced once against the remaining burn in his lungs, “Some good moves on your side there.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked in clear detectable doubt, “I think their moves put my feeble attempts of keeping them off of me long enough to run away to shame.” Wilson snorted and Bucky let the arm recalibrate itself one more time before taking a breath and facing Wilson. “Are we in the clear?”  
“Seems that way, I can't find them anywhere anymore.” Sam explained and Bucky wanted to believe that he sounded convinced and not hesitant, that man or woman had come out of fucking nowhere.

\--

Sam flinched when Redwing suddenly beeped with alarm, taking off into the sky above them with engines roaring, Barnes tensed, body switching from alert to fight readiness within one blink of an eye. Sam could feel his heart quickening its pace, please, please, let it be back-up, god, please let it be one of the good guys, he was too tired to fight anymore.

And then breathed out in relief as the figure appeared from a cloud above a skyscraper two streets to their left, even Redwing calmed down again, only Barnes tensed if possible even more. For him it had to mean danger, for Sam it hopefully meant friendship.

The suit touched down and Sam raised his hand against Barnes’ heaving chest, fingers splayed out against the scratchy fabric of the brunet’s jacket.  
“Sam…” Speaker’s carried that long suffering sigh of his name and Sam smiled as the faceplate moved to the side, revealing dark eyes staring over at them, “Why?”

And wasn’t that a loaded question.

With his hand still on Barnes’ chest, feeling exactly how tense and ready to bolt the man was, blue eyes starring ahead and then flickering up into the sky now and then, waiting for the storm to descend on them. Sam though knew they were alone, there were no special forces waiting on the sidelines.

“Hi, Rhodey.” He grinned, letting go of Barnes and taking a step forward, “So…funny story.” And across from him Rhodey raised an eyebrow in a silent non-verbal plea to start talking right about fucking now, “Lemme start by saying that my Ma really doesn't need to know about this.”

tbc


End file.
